


The Dragon's Bloodline

by garzaairotciv



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - How to Train Your Dragon Fusion, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Daenerys Targaryen Lives, House Targaryen, Multi, how to train your dragon and game of thrones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garzaairotciv/pseuds/garzaairotciv
Summary: The necklace laid draped against the flesh of her chest, concealed by her clothing. To the Viking world in which she was adopted, the design was unknown.But the silver three-headed dragon was much more than the elegant work of a master blacksmith.It was a reminder of the pretty child's family, her bloodline, and their reigning dynasty.
Relationships: Astrid Hofferson/Daenerys Targaryen, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	1. I

_**Disclaimer** : I do not claim any relations towards the HTTYD series nor GoT._

**I**

* * *

_"There is a whisper, my lord, that is carried along with the breezes of Westeros by the little songbirds, that the mother of dragons loves her children more than anything in the realm. And only a fool-hearted bastard would be brave enough to come between a dragon and her hatchlings."_

* * *

**o0o**

"Your grace, if I may, your riders have returned. And, regrettably, they weren't able to locate your daughter."

The queen sighed loudly, her face hidden in her hands—almost a decade with no sign of her lost heir, her single heir. The men have searched high and low, the Summer Isles to Lannisport, the Jade Sea and Yi Ti, and the ruins of Old Valyria.

Where could her daughter possibly be? She couldn't be dead; no, the dragons would've felt her death.

She would've felt her death. She was so sure of that.

Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name, arose from the throne. Down her cheek trickled a single tear that she didn't bother to wipe away. She possessed no shame, for she was a mother openly grieving for her child. Her beloved Astrid Targaryen. How many times she sat perched on her throne, wishing with her entire soul for her silverly daughter to be with her.

Dany had heard accounts of Cersei of House Lannister keeping her blonde children, the two sons and one daughter, close to her as she sat on the throne. A lioness she was, with her cubs never far from her reach, until death stole them away. She didn't ponder further on that; it was the past, but it was a dream as well to the young queen.

I was no ordinary woman, she reminded herself. The words seemed bitter in her mind. My dreams came true at one point, but it seems this one may not.

Her heart must've been bleeding at the moment, it felt. And it must've shown, for her most trusted advisor and dear best friend, Missandei, unfolded her arms wide, to which Dany collapsed in.

"She's somewhere, Missandei. We haven't searched everywhere."

The young advisor tightened her hug, "We did your grace. From the shadowlands of Asshai to the Dothraki Sea, where your children were born, we searched."

Everywhere. The word reverberated as if bells throughout Dany's mind. Everywhere didn't seem that far, didn't appear that vast. She tried to remember any other places she might've overlooked, but none came to mind. The lands of Westeros and Essos were explored, again and again, as she insisted. And all were unsuccessful in the end. It was beginning to grow tiresome.

Dany pulled away and slumped back onto the throne. Overcome with sudden sadness; her body felt feeble, her bones like flimsy rubber. Was she a terrible mother? Could this count as failing her daughter, not being able to protect and guide her through life? It certainly felt as if she did. Daenerys never knew her mother, Rhaella, her life taken the day Dany's began. And when she grew pregnant with Astrid, she felt nothing but sheer excitement and happiness.

She wanted to cry, to feel the rivulets of sadness flow down her face and onto the polished stone floors of the Red Keep. Dragons do not cry, Viserys would tell her with a slap when she was just a little girl in exile, surrounded by enemies and lustful men and a brother who worried more for a crown than his blood. Dany wanted a storm, one as powerful as the storm she was born in, to match the grief she felt. Perhaps then she wouldn't tell the difference between the raindrops and her tears.

It was then that gilded doors carved with a blood-red Targaryen sigil were flung open, and the familiar and dark silhouette of Drogo strode into the throne room, his three bloodriders waiting at the door respectively. At the sight of her dear husband, Dany relaxed. "Missendei, leave us, please," she instructed her advisor.

And when it was just the two of them, husband and wife, Daenerys launched herself into Drogo's arms. Feeling free at last, she allowed herself to sob into his leathered chest, not worrying who saw and who gossiped. "Moon of my life," Drogo said, stroking his wife's back softly, but nothing he could say or do could alleviate the pain.

"Our Astrid is somewhere out there, Drogo. I know it. I can feel it, deep in here," and she gestured to her beating heart. "There has to be a place we haven't looked at."

His arms stiffened around Dany, but his tongue abruptly felt tied, and he remained quiet. Her sobbing voice continued, "I will find her if it's the last thing I do. I swear to that, Drogo, I swear to it-"

"-there is a place," he cut her off in Dothraki, "That we haven't searched. Jorah told me about it earlier today. He said some merchant at the ports had seen our daughter." Glassy violet eyes glanced up at him, and for the first time in years, he noticed a glimmer of hope sparkle in them. "He said that she's in a-" and he paused, trying to find the proper word for it. "An archipelago," he finished in the common tongue.

Dany blinked. Her mind was painfully reeling from everything her husband just told her. "An archipelago? Where?"

"Far beyond the northern islands, Jorah was told. Farther than any man has traveled before. This strange merchant, he was careful to stress that it is indeed a barbaric place. Supposedly tribes of many a great man call those lands their home."

"And our daughter is there?" Daenerys felt a familiar lightness swell in her chest. Finally, after all these years of waiting, there was a possibility. "In that case, I will inform Missendei and Ser Barristan and Greyworm at once. And instruct Ser Jorah to recover the merchant so that he could take us to the place," and she tried to pull away, but he stopped her at once. Drogo's black eyes bore into hers, heavy and intense. There was a reply fixed on his lips, but Dany was faster.

"You won't tell me no, my sun and stars. I am going when all is prepared. And I am bringing home Astrid." Drogo's eyebrows furrowed, and his muscles tensed at the thought of his wife alone on some distant, foreign land. "Moon of my life, there are savages we know nothing about. I cannot afford to let you travel by yourself."

His wife raised a hand to his cheek, caressing it gently, lovingly as she had done a hundred times before.

She then silenced his concerns. "I won't be alone. I'll have Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal. I need you to stay here and watch over the kingdom. Will you do so?" She asked him although he needed not to answer. Her mind already knew the answer. And it wasn't a no, and Drogo knew that, for he did nothing more but nod.

In her husband's arms, Dany stayed, her eyes sealed, her heart thrashing almost savagely within her chest. And while her body remained rooted against the Khal, her mind wandered hundreds and thousands of miles away. Across unfamiliar waters and luscious woodlands, it traveled before she could, ignoring all but one person. And as her mind went where it desired, she remembered the declarations of the warlock she slew back in the city of Qarth, Pyat Pree. He may have died, but his memory didn't.

_'The mother of dragons will be with her babies. She will give them her love, and they will thrive by her side. Forever.'_

Daenerys Targaryen did her absolute best to prevent the warlock from entering her head but to no avail. He only became louder, and his voice only grew more persisted. 'A mother should be with her children.' Yes, she agreed. A mother should be with her children... and with her children, the mother of dragons would be.

**o0o**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The short and simple awakening of a great, big journey.


	2. II

**II**

* * *

_With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children - Daenerys, A Game of Thrones._

* * *

**o0o**

Astrid Hofferson possessed a lot of memories for someone of her age. She treasured them all the same, but it was those of her birth mother that she favored the most. She could particularly remember her mother playfully pointing out that her girl had a unique gift in luring dangers of all sorts. It was one of the few inheritances from her father, the woman stressed, and not her. Curiosity, specifically born on the Dothraki Sea, ran deep in the blood of the ridermen.

Now, as Astrid eyed the brown and yellow triple stryke standing before her, she realized an eight years too late just how correct her mother was.

"Look out!" her best friend Hiccup Haddock warned aloud alongside her. Not a moment too soon did the three sharp stingers of the triple stryke embed themselves in the dampened soil. Breathing laboriously, Astrid could feel Stormfly snarl and bare her fangs at the same Hiccup grunted and toughened his grip on the lighted inferno. Still, the dragon disregarded these warnings and ventured further closer towards the three. It was the feral beady eyes leveled directly on them that prompted Astrid's cheeks and bosom to grow a flustered pink.

"Perhaps we should take into account that the triple stryke may just be untrainable."

"We're making progress," Hiccup insisted, though Astrid saw a flint of uncertainty in his eyes. She chose not to comment on it. The sky was turning darker with every passing minute, and on her skin, she could feel the faint splattering of raindrops. The weather was not favorable for dragon training. It was only just a matter of time. The triple stryke took another step closer, and Stormfly shrieked again. Hiccup nodded towards the blonde.

"Spine shot!" Astrid commanded, and Stormfly lanced a series of spines towards the creature, avoiding him by a mere feet difference. It aided in only making him the evermore mad.

Again, the triple stryke roared, alike to the massive rolls of thunder hidden in the brooding, overcast sky. From next to Hiccup, Toothless matched the dragon in sound. The familiar purplish plasma fire ignited in his mouth, but his rider automatically motioned for him to back down. "No, Toothless. We are trying to train him, not piss him off more." The night fury rolled his eyes but did as instructed, closing his mouth. Hiccup swiftly took a footstep forward, straining one hand out, closing his eyes, and Astrid held her breath in her throat. He'll get himself killed like this one of these days. The dragon studied the boy thoroughly, and with the assistance of a crack of lightning, vanished from the clearing.

Hiccup sighed and turned back to his friends. The two dragons gave him sympathetic expressions, but Astrid wore an amused look. "We should head back to base," and his gaze found the incoming storm. "It doesn't look good at all."

Astrid snorted, "Could've told you that five minutes ago. Oh, wait, I did."

And the auburn would've surely riposted a comeback, but it was then that Fishlegs hovered over them on Meatlug. His chubby face was a reddening, twisted mess of stress, and he had to fix his sweaty grip on Meatlug's ears every few seconds. "Fishlegs! What brings you to the Valley of Pain," Astrid greeted only half sarcastic.

"Snotlout and the twins just got back from patrol," he replied in a rush. "And multiple storm fronts are heading right for us. We need to lock down the Edge before they start to hit."

Astrid sent Hiccup a meaningful grin with a raise of her eyebrow. Did I not tell you? It read, but he only twisted away, declaring, "Okay, but we aren't done here," and shot one final glimpse to where the triple stryke could've possibly fled.

Back on the Edge, Astrid couldn't help herself in rolling her eyes as she observed Snotlout desperately attempt to cover the brazen, red, and quite ridiculous, metal 'S' symbol draped at the front of his hut. She debated on whether or not to tell him that his chances of electrocution only intensified when next to that thing, but bit down the comment. "You're supposed to be closing down the dome and battening down the hatches," she reminded him.

The brunette narrowed his eyes at her, and he hugged the moth cloth tightly against his chest. Behind him was another crack of lightening. "Hey! I'm not leaving the 'S' hanging out in the wind," he barked, and visibly cringed when Astrid yelled back at him. There was no feasible victory he could see, and so he quickly tossed the blanket over the 'S' and clambered over an annoyed Hookfang. And just as he took to the air, the wind swept away the sheet, causing him to groan aloud and Astrid to giggle.

Moving on from that, Astrid watched a grounded Fishlegs herd a group of night terrors towards the barn. He's not moving fast enough; she deemed to herself. The storm was nearing quickly, and time was not exactly on their side. "Fishlegs, hurry! You need to get them into the stables. The storm-" she cautioned him, gesturing in its direction, but he cut her off. "I know! My thunder to lightning calculations are never wrong. And, well, according to them, let's just say it's-," he sheepishly told as a bolt of lightning animated up the sky. He shrieked anew.

When she overheard the twins fly up behind her, Astrid mentally groaned. "What do you want us to do?" Asked Tuffnut.

"Get to the clubhouse and don't move," Astrid responded, emphasizing the last two words carefully.

Ruffnut crossed her arms over her chest, "Oh, really? And who put you in charge, exactly?"

Fishlegs flung his arms out. "We all voted Astrid "Storm Warden," he said.

The twins shared a look before Tuffnut proclaimed the 'rescinding' of his vote, accompanied by a nod from his sister. Don't kill the twins, don't kill the twins, Astrid repeated. "Oh, sorry, too late. Now get going," and she left reciting the four words in her head almost religiously. She did a quick check-up on their livestock herded in the arena; specifically the newborn fawn she rescued a few weeks prior. It didn't take much longer for the riders to finish prepping for the storm, and not a minute sooner for the storm to be on them. Outdoor, thick droplets of water puddled over the wooden crossways, and the winds howled against the walls of the clubhouse.

Snoutlout dramatically shuddered. "Do you guys hear that? Man, what did we do to piss off Thor?" And chortled as if a hilarious joke.

Tuffnut held up Chicken near the burning hearth, drying her sodden feathers while the others observed with amusement. Astrid turned to Hiccup, "Did you drop off the food and water at the stables?"

"Yep. Troughs are all full." And he gave her a lopsided grin that sent a crazed butterfly or three in her stomach.

"Well, the dragons are all cozy in their pens," Fishlegs announced with a final grunt as he closed down the wide clubhouse door. His leather vest clung to him like an extra layer of skin, and like a dog, he shook away water from his hair. Astrid placed both hands on her waist and tilted her head, "Did you lock the main doors?"

The husky man chuckled, but to his friend, it appeared as if he was unsure of his answer. "Astrid. Astrid, of course. Who would forget something like that?" But he then scratched at his eyebrow, looking everywhere but the girl, "I mean, I guess it is possible. But I would never!" His eyes locked with Astrid's, and he quickly shied away, "But then again, there's a first time for everything..."

Oh, for fuck's sake, the girl exclaimed silently but frustratedly. Hiccup shot her a concerned glance. Leave it to the girl to always clean up after the boys.

She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, their gazes penetrating her skin like a branding iron, and she remarked that she'd check. Hiccup automatically gave some sort of protest and grasped her arm tightly. "Astrid, no!" he told her, but she shrugged out of his grasp and hurried out of the room, ignoring the several further objections from the others.

Please don't follow me. Please, just stay in the clubhouse. But she knew her friends, and she knew they'd be right on her heel.

Outside, the storm was a magnificent stallion of untarnished power, roaring with all its might brashes of thunder. No one could possibly exaggerate its beauty. Flares of silver light branched out across the black sky, and Astrid heaved a shielding hand over her eyes as one flared near her. Her vision was gradually becoming blurry from the rain, and she quickened her pace.

The sounds of the dragons within the building instantly reached her ears, and so did the massive metal doors clattering and rattling noisily from the strong draft. But from where Astrid stood, they appeared locked as required, and she drew out a breath of relief. Turning back around, she made a beeline to the clubhouse and viewed Hiccup and the others a little ways off.

"Was it locked?" Hiccup shouted.

Astrid cupped her hands against her mouth, "Yes! Go back inside; I'll be right there!"

She told herself only a few steps more and she'd be safe. Hiccup remained in the rain despite her command, waiting for her to join him. But it occurred so fast, and she wasn't prepared for it in the slightest.

A single stroke of lightning struck the top of the stable, hurling fragments of painted wood in various directions. A sharp crack sounded from inside the structure. Astrid gasped loudly and immediately ran to the stable doors, ignoring the shouts of her friends, and shoved them apart. Pretty snowflakes of ember cascaded around a startled Astrid, and the deferred planks and metal beams that had fallen to the floor. When they took notice of her, the dragons all screamed.

More debris plunged from the slowly caving-in roof, and Astrid did her best in avoiding each as she worked to release the dragons from their stalls.

"Alright, guys. We're moving you to the arena before this whole place comes down!"

Faint whiffs of smoke began to cloud the entire room, and coarse grains of dust descended from the ceiling as the fire consumed the greenwood of the stable at an alarming rate. "Go!" Astrid bellowed out above the crackling of the fire, flinging her arms at the dragons, all an attempt to drive them towards the exit. The large ones, such as Hookfang and Stormfly, raced out into the rain on her first command, while the night terrors shrieked behind a blockade. "C'mon, little ones," she cried as she set them free.

The chamber was growing darker, and she coughed again and again, and on the third time, she inhaled so much of the heavy smoke that she believed she would've fainted on the spot. But the dragons helped her stay conscious. They were all safely huddled at the entrance, shrilling, and squawking, and begging her not to give up.

Stormfly danced at the doors, her eyes focused worryingly at her human. She shrilled and trilled and did so more when Hiccup and the riders arrived on the spot. "Oh my gods," Hiccup mumbled before bellowing out, "Astrid!"

Get up, Astrid! She screamed at herself. Get up, you damn fool. Up! Up! Up!

Astrid dragged herself up and made haste towards the crowd. She gritted her teeth as an intense, burning sensation fell upon her muscles. On her lips, she could taste the blood from where she bit, but she was so close to making it to Hiccup. And she would've made it for sure if the other bolt of lightning didn't strike right in front of her.

She witnessed the blinding whitish cerulean light and sensed the heat that sent her tumbling backward, cradling her head in her hands. "Oh, gods..." she moaned out. In her head was a searing pain above her brow bone that felt as if someone sank ten blades into it. It was like no other pain she had experienced before. Except, as soon as it overcame her, it vanished, leaving her feeling dizzy but awake. And when she finally got a grip of her surroundings, it seemed her condition had only worsened. The fire was trying to overpower the girl, with spits of flames that resembled the talons of a phoenix.

No, not a phoenix. A dragon. Astrid corrected. With incredible, colossal ebony wings that worked to fan the heat in great bursts. From that single dragon sprouted two more, smaller than the first, but still all mighty. One was with silver scales and golden eyes; the other chose to blend in with the blaze. It was Balerion and Vhagar and Meraxes, Astrid told herself. The dragons of her ancestors.

And as they enclosed her on all sides, she saw more than just dragons. She saw silhouettes of dancers with outfits composed of the great fire, their bodies twisting and spinning gracefully. Wolves and bears and the wild stags that foraged near the plateaus of Berk ran through the blaze, combining their calls to the music. Priests adoring red robes preached prayers towards the heavens, and Astrid wondered where they went after vanishing.

From the outside, Astrid could hear the shouts and screams from others. The loudest of them all was Hiccup's shuddering wails. They sent a collection of shivers down her spine. "Hold on, Astrid! I'll save you!"

But she didn't want to be rescued from this, not at the moment, no.

She had sensed the truth oh so long ago, just like her lady mother on the Dothraki Sea. Astrid stretched a welcoming hand out to the flames. Vibrant, beautiful hues of red, orange, and yellow enclosed her, enchanting her with its charm. Their glow was something she had never witnessed before. She felt an undying urge to dance alongside its dancers. They were so gorgeous, untouched, and ... free. Astrid wanted to feel free. She yearned to move her feet to the beating of the war drums of the storm.

It was not an enemy, this fire, but a friend.

The cries of her friends had fallen silent, Astrid noted after a while. A thought soon ran after. Maybe they believe me to be dead. Am I dead? Is this what death feels like?

Beads of sweat ran down the sides of her face and between the valley of her breasts, and beneath her boots, she could feel the scorching heat. The feeling didn't faze her, and instead, she fell in step alongside her sisters, moving her soles to the rhythm of the music. Laughing, she shrugged off her boots and clothing when she began to feel them smolder. As she danced, the flames took small nibbles at her nude skin, running a parched tongue over her collarbone and the flatness of her stomach.

It was very well possible that she should've felt the burning agony, but in truth, there was nothingness.

It was a series of nothings that shifted into the feeling of power. A sense of strength, and not just any but the strength of her ancestors. Her bones began to harden into unbendable steel, and her blood grew feverish. It caused her to grin delightfully. She bathed in twilight cinders and dusty ashes that fell from the ethers, and yet the silver necklace she wore remained untouched from all around. And Astrid knew why. The fire couldn't harm the dragon nor its kin.

Have you forgotten who you are? Astrid heard the fire ask, winding and curving like a vast sea serpent, its tail circling her thighs and chest. She could feel its tongue against her ear, repeating the same question. Astrid held her head higher than ever before, and in a clear voice, she answered back, "No. I never forgot, nor would I ever." The serpent disappeared, and Astrid was left alone, until:

Then who are you, my dear?

The voice was familiar, dripping with an accent of motherly love. The question was asked again, and something in her brain clicked. Astrid knew that voice, having dreamt of it for so many nights. From the fire, she made out a horse, a silvery mare with a sweeping mane of white flames. Her mounted rider held tightly onto two tuffs of mane as she skillfully guided the mare. Although, to Astrid, it wasn't the first time she'd seen such talent. The rider wore a mixture of leather and cloth, a stitched top, and a leather skirt adorned with the golden belt of a Khaleesi.

Her lilac eyes smiled so kindly at Astrid before she clicked her tongue and urged the animal into a gallop.

From where the horse galloped arose three individuals- a man and two women. The man, with a head of silver and intense violet eyes, donned on red and black armor and clutched a steel sword of dragon design. Rounding his head was a crown of ebony rubies and scarlet garnets, and the ladies that clung to his arms sported the same crowned jewelry and facial characteristics. The three studied Astrid until the male nodded as if satisfied with what he saw, and he and the women faded amongst the flames.

It's a prank of nature. A figure of her imagination, she said to herself again and again until her knees grew weak. What was she to do? She had already yielded herself to the fire. Was she to do the same to her heart? But didn't she already do so? All these questions painstakingly revolved in her head. Her body was driven tired, torrents of perspiration flooded down her stained skin. Astrid closed her eyes, thinking long and hard.

 _'No, no, do not fear for me, my good knight.'_ That wasn't her voice in her mind. It was her mother's. _'I am Daenerys Stormborn. Daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons. Don't you see? Don't you SEE?'_ The voice faded a few seconds later, leaving Astrid alone.

She reminisced about herself and the childhood she had. Who was she? She was a foreign orphan; the blood of monsters. Who could ever possibly love her? The auburn outside, the one she trusted and loved with her entire life, would only stick around for a fleeting time after discovering the secret. The same could be said about their other friends.

It was only a matter of time.

But who am I? That question rang harshly in her head. She was a descendant of the ancient freehold. The last of a dynasty, one that reigned for three-hundred years. It would be up to her to find the answers to her questions.

Astrid took one final glimpse at the firestorm encompassing her, memorizing the grand belches of flames that ascended fifty feet towards the heaven. Her heart was unafraid, and her skin was unburnt, and she eventually surrendered herself to her family, calling out to them.

* * *

**o0o**

Standing on the main deck of her ship, Daenerys Targaryen stared memorized at the red comet burning throughout the black sky. The last time she saw it was when her dragons were born on the Dothraki Sea. It was the herald of her children's births, the guide that pushed her back to her people and homeland. "Stars don't fall for men," she whispered to herself. The comet signified only one thing - dragons.

"What's that, your grace?" Missandei of Naath asked, coming up to study the comet with wondrous eyes.

"The red comet, Missandei, " Dany replied. "The Dothraki call it the shierak qiya."

"The 'Bleeding Star,' " Missandei translated softly, massaging her hands together, for the sea air was rather chilled tonight. Dany hummed. It appeared as if the sky was sliced with an afresh whetted blade, and dripped the blood comet for the eyes of the world to notice its injury. Above, in the star-lit heavens, it blazed brighter than the moon and all its sister stars combined. "But what does it mean for us?"

Daenerys' eyes never left the comet, worried that if she was to blink, it would disappear before her eyes. "It means that a dragon has just been born." There was a silence, and then Missandei exclaimed.

"But that cannot be, your grace. You are the mother to the last living dragons, who are accompanying you on this trip." Sheltered in the shadows of the night, Drogon cried out, and a few seconds later, his brothers gave answer. Dany merely smiled and laced a hand through Missandei's darker one. Together, the two shared the beauty of the scenery before them, and the talk of the comet faded with the waves.

But Dany's smile survived the entire nighttime, for she knew that somewhere along these barbaric tides, her missing hatchling was alive and safe. And the red comet was the sole testimony of such a claim.

**o0o**


	3. III

**III**

* * *

**o0o**

The saying went that dragons are quite the intelligent species, more so intelligent than some men. They're able to distinguish the difference between affection and fury, and which of the two belong to the correct party. However, many fools were swift to renounce this claim from the old maesters, although a small amount of those said dupes had the privilege of meeting such a creature and living to tell the tale.

But it was dragons that clustered around the sleeping girl the next day, not wishing to disturb her in such a peaceful state.

The world was someplace amid dawn and nighttime, and perhaps that was the reason why no human came for her. The deadly nadder, a brilliant female of middle-aged, pressed her snout against the softness of the girl's thigh and took a sniff. She took another, and on the fourth, though it was quite faint, she detected life. Almost instantly, she pulled back and squawked to those around her, as if announcing _'t_ _he child lives.'_

The others all made some sort of commotion, cawing, and shrieking, but the female dragon ignored all and instead studied the little human with great interest. She recollected that the girl was one of the six riders that resided on the island, having seen her conscious earlier. A huge devotee to the animal kingdom, she fought tooth and nail to rescue and care for all creatures that crossed her path. And she had an exceptionally soft spot for the deadly nadders, taking the time to join them in flight or witnessing the hatching of the newest.

Strangely, it was as if she was a nadder herself.

Cautiously using her claw, the female gently scooped up the girl and took to the air. The other dragons quickly followed suit, joining her above the endless ocean, away from the base of Dragon's Edge. Every once in a while, a dragon would stray close and take a short whiff of the stranger before retreating backward. Her scent was strong, and it gave off the impression that she was one of them, this odd little human. It confused them much, but despite what she was, the dragons knew of one thing:

She wasn't safe.

And neither were they, as they soared aloft ocean waters festering with dragon hunters and trappers. The nadder hastened her pace when the first sight of ice entered her vision. So close was protection. Concealed behind copious amounts of ice glazers and bergs stood the nest, a fortress of hardening and seemingly unpenetrable ice. Deep within its walls, the king slept, and so did the child. They navigated through caves until they recognized the blinding light at the end, where lush heaven awaited them.

"Oh, you guys are back! Marvelous! I pray you all made it back safely, and... what is that in your claw?" A woman's voice shifted into question as the nadder grounded. A wooden-brown stormcutter was casually rotating its head, staring at the other with a piercing gaze. The female moved stiffly, squawking softly in return. She then tenderly laid the girl on the soil, nudging her towards the stormcutter's direction. After a minute or so, it slowly unfolded a large wing and took hold of the woman, lowering her to the ground.

The nadder nudged the newcomer again. "You brought back a human? And not just any human but a child. Why?"

She received no response and figured she wouldn't and chose to instead focus on the crucial matter in this situation. "Right, well, let's do a quick checkup, shall we?" Kneeling beside the girl, she took a soft soot-covered wrist in her hand and pressed two fingers against it. There was the faint thumping of a heartbeat, and the woman sat back on her heels.

"You appear as if you have been through Hel and back, my dear," the woman remarked, running a gentle hand over several bruises on her small breasts and upper thighs. She suddenly felt a motherly need to shelter this nameless, unfamiliar child. "And though I do not know who you are, it seems the dragons do."

An old shivertooth buried a snow-cold snout in the stranger's hair, huffing against it. It seemed he approved. Others made similar interactions, such as a blind timberjack who stretched out a scarred wing and covered her naked body modestly. A nadder hatchling curled up in a small ball and pushed its face deep in the girl's side.

"Ah, you guys have the biggest hearts," the woman said with a laugh.

She would need to recheck, but there was a strong possibility that she owned clothing that'd fit their unexpected guest. The girl was petite in stature and slim, and by the taunt muscles, she knew she was a warrior. A pretty warrior. No, pretty wasn't the precise word. There was something about her beauty that seemed inhuman, especially the silverness of her lengthy hair. And judging by the ashes that coated her entire body, she was in dire need of a bath.

"Take her to the hot springs," she instructed the same nadder from before. "I'll meet you there."

* * *

**o0o**

It was early in the morning when the fire eventually died, and the area became cool enough to tread on. The scattered storms, though not finished by any means, had paused their rainfalls, and allowed for the teens to inspect the ruins. The riders could only stare in thorough dismay at the result of the fire, finding no words on their tongue to express such a feeling. The once beautiful stable, a symbol of their dragon-riding, was transformed to nothing but a collection of blackened logs, scorched metal, and heaps of ashes. From the four walls, only two remained standing, with Fishleg's painted whorls and dragons hideously smeared black.

Hiccup felt Toothless press into his side and warble softly. But he said nothing; just gazed forward, towards the spot where he last saw his best friend alive. And as he desperately feared last night, there was no sign of her. Dead or alive.

"Hiccup...?" Fishlegs spoke softly, testing the waters.

"She's gone," Hiccup replied. The thought made him want to vomit. "What, Hiccup?" he heard someone mumble behind him. "She's dead," he repeated, louder, sadder. He didn't want to believe it, didn't want to see it, but he knew there was no use in ignoring it. He took a step forwards, then another, until he was standing before a dark, bodily imprint on the floor. No one needed to explain whose shape it pertained to. "She stood precisely here, withering alive in those flames, and I couldn't save her. I didn't save her. I let my best friend die," and he crumpled to his knees.

His friends all hurried to their fallen friend. They all shouted the same thing.

The very same thing:

"No, Hiccup, it wasn't your fault."

"It'll be okay. Trust me."

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

His shoulders quivered as he openly wept. "She's dead. Astrid is dead. My Astrid is dead," he cried over and over again, much to the anguish of the others. "So many times I had almost lost her, and I told myself multiple times, "Hiccup, you damn fool, tell her. Tell her the truth." But did I do that? No!" His tears moistened the platform, the ones he cared not to dry away. He hated those tears, but he hated himself more. "All the times she was almost killed, yet I couldn't muster enough courage to confess."

Fishlegs and Snotlout shared a look but idled silently.

Hiccup continued, "I never told her. I never did, and now this is my punishment for being a fucking coward." Fishlegs knelt beside him, taking his hand in his. His blue eyes were considerate and completely understanding of the situation, even when his friend yanked his hand away. "Never told her what, Hiccup?" He probed gently, slowly. Hiccup looked at him through glassy eyes, and he hiccuped, "Never told her that I'm literally head over heels in love with her."

Ruffnut gasped from behind her hands, and Tuffnut sensed tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Snotlout looked away for only a second to discreetly wipe away a tear. It was no surprise hearing of their leader's feelings towards the blonde, witnessing themselves the doe eyes he made at her throughout the years. However, they all figured he had admitted to her, seeing how close the two were to each other, not to mention the kisses they 'secretly' shared every now and then.

Only Fishlegs spoke back to the heartbroken boy, "It's okay, Hiccup. We all understand one hundred percent." But the fellow ignored him and his words and instead sobbed his bleeding heart right out from his aching chest.

"I fell in love with her the moment I laid eyes on her. Gods, I knew we were young, but," Hiccup shook his head, chuckling through his weepings," I knew she was the one. I felt it, in here." He signaled to his heart. "There was something about her that made her differ from the rest. She was a light that flamed brighter than any fire. And though I was little, I made myself a goal that I would sweep her off her feet and marry her before the elders. Oh, was I some fool-hearted bastard to believe that the gods would grant me, a hiccup, a happy ending."

His sobbings commenced yet again, for he failed in stopping them from escaping his lips. Toothless trilled and laid by his rider's side, staring up at him with woeful, green eyes. Fishlegs sighed and rose to his feet, seeking the others a few feet away. From there, they watched their leader cry for his lost love. "What can we do? There is literally no way homegirl survived this fire," Ruffnut whispered.

"Unless...she did," Fishlegs noted, looking around at the damage. The stable was gone, and so were memories and a girl so loved by others. The hopeful dreamer in Fishlegs refused to believe the last part, though. The haziest glow of ember flickered around in the morning light, and the Viking would've found it pretty if not given the circumstances.

Snotloud snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, really, Fishy? And how do you suppose she did so? Did you happen to overlook the fact that this place is a disgusting pile of debris?" He whisper-shouted at his friend. The husky viking whimpered slightly, feeling his face flush at Snotlout's tone. He glanced over at the twins, but they too shook their head at him.

"Sorry, but I have to agree with the ol' snot master here, Fish. But, for your sake, I'll humor you. Let's say Hoff did, in fact, withstand the fire, which is highly impossible by the way. The human body can scarcely survive such a boiling temperature for so long. Where is she then? Where is her body, cause from what I've seen, and slap me if I'm wrong, it's nowhere here." Tuffnut pointed out. He then winced as Ruffnut slapped his cheek.

Fishlegs stared, confused, "But...but he wasn't wrong, Ruff."

"Oh, I know. I just didn't want to pass up an opportunity to slap him." There were still tears in her eyes, despite her light chuckle.

The brunette groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Such muttonheads," he grumbled. Tuffnut sent him a frown. "Anything you'd like to share with us, young man?" Snotlout looked up and nodded, "Yeah, of course. Well, first things first, you two are complete muttonheads. It's actually pretty sad if you ask me. Second, we need to focus on Hiccup. Cause hello, he just lost the fucking love of his life!"

He sucked in a deep breath, "Sure, Astrid was our friend and comrade, and we all cared for her, but Hiccup? He loved her, like really loved her. I'm talking about the marrying and reproducing type of love. And I know she loved him the same way. The pain we're currently feeling is nowhere comparable to his. He's always there for us, and it's time for us to repay the debt."

The three riders stared at him in shock. "Snotlout, did you just say something... correct? Something we can all agree on?" The boy sent his chubby friend a smug smile, "Indeed, my friends, I just did. You guys just fail to acknowledge the sheer intelligence stashed in this beautiful head of mine." Fishlegs looked at the twins and shrugged, "Well, I mean, he is related to Hiccup."

Tuffnut piped up, "Speaking of Hiccup, hasn't he gotten real quiet?"

The four spun around and saw that their friend had fallen asleep. Moving closer, Fisglegs noted that, despite his calm state, tears continued to trickle slowly down both his cheeks. He sighed. "Don't wake him up. Let him sleep here," he directed the others with a stern tone, eyes narrowing dangerously. "And I mean it." Toothless then opened an eye, regarding the four riders before drawing his rider closer to him. From his lips, Hiccup muttered "Astrid" so breathlessly that it entered another blade into Fishleg's heart.

 _Freyja, if you are listening,_ he begged. _Watch over Astrid. Not for our sake but for Hiccups. Odin only knows how long this boy will last without her._

* * *

**o0o**

Her head felt as if a hundred horses trampled on it. Mares, stallions, fillies and colts, all took their turn in kneading her head to a dough. Astrid awoke with the massive migraine and wondered if Fishlegs would have anything in his stock that could help get rid of it. He must've, she thought as she sat up, massaging her head softly. He always had something helpful on his shelves. Blinking her vision in place, she took in her setting and felt her heart sink.

She wasn't amid a charred stable on Dragon's Edge.

_No. Oh gods, no. I can't be dead._

She hastily rose to her feet, her legs feeling like those of a newborn foal. Wobbly and jelly-like and not being able to stand on. "Stormfly? Stormfly, where are you?" Astrid exclaimed, but her beloved dragon did not answer. "Oh, my sweet girl, please answer me!" She tried again, using various sorts of dragon calls, but none resulted in Stormfly descending on her. And if Stormfly was not around, it was safe to say that neither was Hiccup or the others. Sighing disappointingly, she dropped her gaze to the new clothing she woke up wearing.

It was a pretty lilac dress, reaching just above her knees. Beautifully sewn into the material were intricate designs, and Astrid traced a finger over them. It felt like melted silk under her touch. Around her shoulders was a light fur cloak, which she was quite thankful for; the air was rather chilly for her liking. But the clothing, the pieces were beautiful, too beautiful, in fact. It had been years upon years since she donned pretty attire as such; the feeling was all too strange to Astrid.

"I do apologize if your cleanness takes you by surprise. My motherly instincts kicked in as soon as I saw you, and I bathed you in one of the many hot springs of my home. The dress looks stunning on you, love."

Astrid glanced up to where the voice echoed and spied a stormcutter fastened on the top of a rocky ridge. Mounted on his back was a woman, all but her face and smile hidden by the shadows. Despite herself, Astrid felt her cheeks and chin redden at the woman's comment. "It is okay; do not apologize. Thank you for doing so, but, um, where am I, and who are you?"

Her eyes drifted away to the environment around her. "Oh, gosh, this place is gorgeous! Never have I ever seen such beauty, and all the dragons!" she gushed gleefully. There were dragons everywhere, of all classes and sizes, of all colors and ages.

To her, it was a rainbow, and she bent down to pick up a nadder hatchling cooing at her feet. The baby hummed when Astrid scratched underneath its chin, digging its talon deep in her dress. The young girl giggled, hugging it close to her chest. "So many dragons," she mumbled happily.

Yet, Astrid couldn't exaggerate the beauty before her. At first, she thought it was the bright, blue sky that glistened down on her, but at closer inspection, she realized it was not the sky but ice draped over like a shielding dome. The soil was fertile and green, and the prettiest flowers sprouted from it. Dragons flew around freely, diving in and out of the water below. Free, Astrid repeated. The dragons here are free.

"You like it?" The woman asked, and Astrid nodded.

She did more than liked it; she loved it.

"What is this place?" She turned back to the duo. The stormcutter had slowly lowered itself to the ground, helping the woman off his back. "And why am I here?" She further asked as the woman entered from the umbrae.

Astrid examined the mysterious woman before her. "That is a good question, my dear." There was something strikingly familiar about her dark auburn hair twisted into two, long braids and the way her smile reached her pretty blue eyes, though Astrid couldn't name it at the top of her head. Decked in an unusual style of viking armor and fur, she carried herself with this fierceness. Astrid found herself drawing closer, fascinated by it all.

"The dragons brought you here, though I haven't the faintest idea as to why," the woman answered. She passed by Astrid, moving to the edge of the earth beneath them, and gestured to the girl to follow.

"The dragons did the same to me years back. Actually, it was Cloudjumper here," and she gestured to the owl-like dragon perched beside her. "And for eighteen years, I called this place home, carrying for the sick and injured, learning the secrets of every dragon that arrived within this fortress." Astrid stared at her in amazement, the capability to speak momentarily stripped away from her, "Wow...That is amazing."

A minute or so passed before the woman turned to the girl. "You never did tell me your name, dear."

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'm Astrid-" she then paused, thinking. It was only then when the woman's eyebrow raised that she made her decision, "-Astrid Targaryen," she finished with a genuine smile.

"Astrid? The name fits you perfectly, my dear. A divine beauty, through and through. Though I must admit, I've never seen eyes like yours before. They're gorgeous."

"Thank you," she replied, touching around her face. "Now, will you tell me your name?"

The woman smiled back. Astrid had seen that confident smile before, she just knew it, and it irritated her much that she couldn't remember where. _That smile, it's so familiar. Where have I've seen it?_

"My name's Valka Haddock. And I do believe, my dear, that we're going to have quite an interesting journey."

**o0o**


	4. IV

**IV**

* * *

**o0o**

| Few Months Prior |

"So...when are you finally gonna tell Hiccup?"

Astrid paused her swinging and turned towards Heather and Ruffnut. Both girls wore similar smirks on their faces, and she automatically knew which path this discussion was headed down. "Tell him what?" 

Ruffnut didn't wait in shooting her a scowl, "Don't play stupid. Why haven't you told him about your feelings? It's been, what, three years, and like a thousand kisses later, yet no relationship! C'mon, blondie! What's the holdup? I want a niece! " 

The girl groaned. Why wasn't it that the subject of boys couldn't stay out of their conversations every time? A few hours ago, the girls had left the guys back at the clubhouse to twiddle their thumbs in boredom, making them pledge not to kill each other the moment they disappeared. They all pleaded to come along, swearing they'd behave, but Astrid, Heather, nor Ruffnut budged one bit. Their pouting didn't serve in altering their decision. 

"Okay, good question, Ruff. Why haven't you done anything, Astrid? I was stunned, and very disappointed, mind you, to come back to the Edge and find you two not dating," Heather added.

Astrid stayed quiet, processing the words carefully and determining the right way of dealing with this. The girls had a valid point; she had to admit. Why hasn't she confessed yet? It was not like there was never a time to talk with him; he regularly sought her company and advice, and he liked to kiss her once in a while, and she always kissed him back. The two were the best of friends, and along the years, Astrid fell for him. However, there was still that nagging voice at the back of her head.

_He doesn't like you._

_You're not good enough._

_Not pretty enough._

_Toothless is the only dragon he needs in his life, not you._

"What if he doesn't like me? What if I merely imagine things, and he's actually not wanting to pursue a relationship?"

The girls nearly rammed their weapons into their forehead, their groans blatant and irritated. "Please tell me we're not on this, again?" Sick and tired, both girls felt, with their friend being so blatantly ignorant.

"You are a complete dumbass, Ast," Ruffnut unveiled, and Astrid mentally winced at the tone of her voice, for there was an unapologizing bite. "The boy basically fucks you with his eyes every chance he gets. There is not an hour that goes by that he doesn't imagine those innocent lips on his dong. He's what, seventeen?"

"Eighteen," Heather corrected. Being her little brother, he was precisely one year and two months younger than her, and three years Dagur's junior. "Nineteen in a few months," she added under her voice.

Ruffnut tossed her a look, "Shut up, crow. Of course, I knew that. I was just testing your Hiccup Haddock III knowledge. Congrats, you passed, hurray. Anyway, he's already a man and a real fine one at that. Oh, don't you dare blush and act like you haven't oogled his ass in the past few days, Ast."

Astrid's cheeks and neck still flustered red, much to the amusement of Ruff and Heather. Granted, she had seen his ass, and yes, it was a pretty nice one. However, would she ever admit it? Nope. 

Ruffnut returned, "He's only going to grow finer. We're all placing bets on it, and I'm determined to beat Tuffnut. But the point is that, once we return to Berk, girls are going to notice, and not only girls but women too. He's the chief's son, a future chief himself, and held liable for producing an heir. Don't you think they'll be a line of girls outside his window? "Oh, Hiccup! Let me carry your pretty son!" Being the chieftess is a pretty sweet title, but it's something not all of us can wear."

There was something about the way she looked at Astrid when saying the very last sentence that caused her heart to do an abrupt tumble and her stomach a neat little trick. Astrid then dropped her arms to her side and sighed. Everything Ruffnut said was correct. There was no point in trying to deny it. She knew firsthand that Hiccup would require a wife, but not just any wife, or so Stoick had suggested. He wanted an influential woman for his son, someone with beauty, brains, and good breeding. "What are you trying to say, Ruff?"

"I'm saying you're the exact chieftess we need for Berk. You're the only perfect match for Hiccup, Astrid. Anyone would tell you that."

There it was again- the feeling of nausea she had been feeling for weeks on end. She quickly grasped at her knees and bent over, breathing heavily. The bitter taste of vile began to slither up in her throat, but nothing came out, solely dry heaves. "Oh, gods..." she breathed out. "Gods, I.."

Heather sped to her side, drawing circles on her back as her best friend slowly regained her composure. "Shhh. I know, this is a lot to take in, especially right now," and she yielded a glare at Ruffnut. The blonde twin shrugged and joined their side, "Look, it needed to be said. Perhaps it'll open your eyes now and help you see that you have quite a man in love with you."

"He's not in love with me!"

"And you're in love with him," Heather retorted kindly, still tracing circles. "Baby, we can all see it."

There was no denying that she was in love. Astrid loved Hiccup Haddock III with her whole heart and soul, and that was one of her few weaknesses. That fact genuinely scared her, flinging shivers down her spine. Wedding him and producing his heirs sounded like a tangible future, one Astrid unquestionably wouldn't mind, but she was troubled. 

But what if he was to uncover her secret, her true identity? He would hate her for hiding it from him; he would feel deeply offended that she didn't trust him enough. 

Not to mention the underlining fact that she herself was an heir. Where would their children rule over? This was so confusing for the poor girl, whose head suddenly felt like iron in a smithy, being hammered by Gobber.

"Astrid, c'mon, will you admit it? If not to him, then to us."

"Yea, Ast, please. Aren't we your best friends? Unless ... you have others!" Heather shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Ruff, for the love of Freyja and her golden apples, kindly shut the fuck up." 

Shaking her head, Astrid drew herself away from her staring friends. "Yes!" She all but screamed. "Yes," she replied in a much quieter voice, gulping back tears, "you girls are right. Completely, one hundred percent right. I love him. But he can never know, okay? He'll just have to do without me." And she spoke no more, instead, dragging her axe up from the ground. Her friends were both bewildered and upset, but kept silent, watching her trudge out of the clearance

Ruffnut spared a glance at Heather, "Should we follow after her or?" But Heather shook her head. "No. No, leave her be."

"Do you think she'll ever tell him? Cause now I'm beginning to doubt that she will."

Heather sighed and hurled her double-bladed axe at an enormous fir tree. The blade struck deep into the trunk, the sound reverberating through the surrounding woodland, "She's pretty stubborn. Either she'll come to her senses soon or wait till it's too late. I just don't want my little brother hurting anymore."

Meanwhile, Astrid was establishing as much distance between the two girls and herself as possible, all the while holding the tears at bay. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ She cursed at herself, brutally launching her axe, embedding it in a nearby tree. She went to retrieve it before sliding her back against the timber. _Gods, why am I so stupid!_ Drawing her knees to her chest, she began to sob quietly. 

She couldn't cook, clean, nor sew, and much more she could count on all ten figures. Being ripped away from her mother served her in the worst way; she never mastered the whole 'basic' housewife essentials. And while she was the spitting image of Daenerys, she was her father's daughter too - a strong-willed, stubborn-minded warrior. It was such a turnoff for the guys, Astrid knew.

'Here's a wife that can beat you up in a matter of ten seconds if you annoy her! Tread carefully, boyo!' 

But Hiccup. Hiccup was such a different chapter in her novel. The chief's son had rewritten the Viking books and ushered in an entirely new way of life, all with little to no help. He accomplished such prominence in a short period, this dragon master she loved. Astrid was flattered beyond words that he regarded her as his prime option for his wife, but back on Berk, she had nothing. 

No name, no blood, no wealth, nor dowry. She was 'nothing.' And gossip managed to spread faster than wildfire on Berk, and the rumors of a non-Berkian orphan becoming their next chieftess wouldn't be friendly to the ears. Astrid could already overhear the protest:

'Our future chief deserves much more than this little girl!' They didn't waste years upon years on him being a hiccup only for him to take a nobody as a consort. 

"Perhaps I'm a little too harsh," Astrid admitted underneath her tears. "I'm probably blowing all this out of proportion." But the notion of losing her beloved Hiccup to another only induced such anguish in her heart.

It was the image of him being in another woman's arms, touching, kissing, and loving, that brought tears back in her eyes. Astrid attempted to bat them away but failed miserably. There was no running apart from this. And from her current knowledge, there were already two potential choices for his marriage. One was Cami, of the Bog-Burglars tribe a few hours west of Berk. She was both an excellent warrior and an exceptional thief, taking after her chief mother. Astrid loved that she always carried a dagger or five on her person. The two got along well, and so did Cami and Hiccup. 

And if not Cami, Heather was a natural alternative, being the heir to Berserker Island, despite her sibling relationship with Hiccup. Her pretty raven-haired best friend was well respected throughout the archipelago, and there was no doubt in Astrid's mind that she wouldn't make a pleasant wife.

"It'll be for the best," she mumbled bitterly. She dried away a streaking tear and sighed. "It'll be for the best."

* * *

_But a dragon could not feed a hungry child nor help a dying woman's pain. And who would ever dare to love a dragon? – Daenerys Targaryen_

* * *

**o0o**

| Present Day | 

_"I just don't want my little brother hurting anymore."_

How cynical were those former words of Heather. Addressed only three months ago when she was attempting her absolute best in urging her best friend to confess her feelings, she never once considered such a thing would occur in their lives. But, as she watched Hiccup a few feet away, reality suddenly slammed into her. He was nothing but a lurking shadow, dark and depressed, ever since Astrid died in that fire two months ago.

While he resumed his role of their general soon after, it wasn't the same as before. Heather didn't expect it to be, though. There was a clear difference to him, from the way he lectured the riders to the way he carried himself. He was a man who the gods unexpectedly robbed. 

_I do suppose the gods did rob from him_ , Heather noted. Astrid was his life's meaning, more so than the dragons, if she was honest. Anyone could see it. She was the love of his life, even if she herself didn't know it. 

Now, as she watched her younger brother drive his knife through the bull's heavy neck, she chewed her lip worryingly. He's changed, and not for the better. A widow he was and at such a young age. All of this wasn't fair, not to her, and unquestionably not to Hiccup. Toothless lifted his head from where he was laying outside and warbled softly at her. 

"I know, Toothless. I worry for him too," she remarked to the dragon, whose greenish eyes were swollen with sorrow. 

Back in the recently constructed barn, Dagur was next to Hiccup, polishing a large butcher knife with a sheer cloth, mumbling something incoherent, but whatever he said made Hiccup chuckle lowly. The auburn then lifted the animal's head slightly, draining the last lingering blood before slicing it off with one stroke, and Heather watched him toss it to the side. The legs and hooves were in a messy heap with a scrawny terrible terror already munching on one limb. 

"Anything I can do to help?" Heather called out. Both men looked back at her for a second before turning their backs to her. "Sure, you can help us skin the carcass. It'll go much faster now that you're here."

Dagur handed her the skinner knife with a grin, and she stood across, skinning the bull. Heather recognized the animal then; it was delivered to the Edge by Stoick a few weeks prior, almost as a peace offering, although she hadn't had the slightest idea as to why. When alive, it was a magnificent creature, one in his prized herd, with a lustrous coat of copper. Hiccup had made assured it mated enough with their own heifers before slaughtering it.

The three worked in silence till Heather spoke up, "So..."

"So..." Hiccup quoted although he didn't meet her eyes. His focus was strictly on slashing away the hide around the neck and chest, and he bit his lip in concentration. Dagur looked up at her instead; an eyebrow hiked, "Something on your mind, sis?" She nodded curtly but instantly regretted it the moment she did. Should she share with them what was currently on her mind? And run the risk of enduring the wrath of Hiccup? Astrid was still a sensitive topic, primarily to him. 

"Sis?" Dagur asked again, louder. 

Heather sighed and paused her task. Laying the knife down, she tucked a loose strand of black hair behind an ear, "It'll be two months today." Her voice was soft, somewhat hushed, except Hiccup heard every word she said. His shoulders stiffened yet didn't look up nor said a word, but she saw his grip on the handle toughened. Heather continued, "I miss her, and I feel we should talk of her, mainly today," and Hiccup glared, but she didn't startle, "and just because she's gone doesn't mean her spirit is."

Dagur had waited quietly, but seeing how his little brother didn't reply, he did, "You're right, sis. Actually, why don't we dedicate this slaughtered bull in her honor? Wouldn't that be nice?" Heather flashed him a nervous smile. 

Hiccup chuckled, though there was no suggestion that he found it funny. "A bull isn't nowhere good enough for a girl like Astrid. Don't you guys ever assume you knew her as I did. You knew nothing, absolutely nothing," and he quickened his progress, his face never looking up.

"Hiccup, now that's not true! She was my best friend-" his sister began in protest, but he held a hand up, hushing her. He laid the knife down to the side and stared directly in Heather's eyes. And she saw puddles of redness trickling into his pupils. 

"No, she was my best friend. Mine. She was the one who found Toothless and I that day, and rather than running away, she stayed. And while nobody, fucking nobody, believed in me, she did. I was a hiccup, I am still a hiccup, for Thor's sake, but she chose me. Astrid never regarded me as a hiccup but someone with more to his life, despite what others said. She was the sole reason why I am who I am today, and she's fucking gone. My top supporter and second-in-command is fucking dead, and I'll never get her back."

Hiccup's voice grew fainter as he whispered, "She's gone, and I'll never be able to hold her in my arms again." His eyes closed shut, and his face fell to his hands. 

Dagur glanced at his sister, green eyes alike hopelessly begging ' _What can we do?'_ But Heather only shook her head wistfully, ' _Nothing.'_ She whirled around the long table, avoiding the carcass and its bloody puddles, and caught the youngest in her arms. He sobbed into her neck, clinging to her like a child. "I miss her so much," he cried, again and again, as she ran a hand up and down his back. 

"I know, Hiccup. I know," she cooed. "We miss her too, more than you know." Dagur wrapped his arms around the two, holding them silently. No one dared to speak a word as Hiccup cried on, muttering the faintest wails concerning Astrid. 

"I miss her so much, Heather."

"She was my girl, my whole world," and her shirt was beginning to grow moist from his tears. But she held onto him just a little longer. 

"Why are the gods so cruel? I've done everything I can to please them!" 

It was the last one that destroyed the surviving piece of her poor heart. "I'd exchange my place for hers if only I could have her back for a little while."

Several minutes later, his laments gradually dimmed until there was nothing. His green eyes were blood-shot and glassy, cheeks tear-stricken, he looked awful, but he smiled weakly. "Thank you, guys. I really needed this," and he hugged them, the first real hug in two months. It was warm and filled with sibling love, and the two greatly relished the moment. "You're okay, don't worry. That's why we're here for. Don't think you have to grieve silently, Hiccup, this is a big loss for all of us here, believe it or not. Our relationships may have been nothing compared to yours and Astrid's, but we nonetheless loved her."

Hiccup nodded, a small hiccup escaping, "Thank you again. I love you guys so much." 

"We love you too, more than what you know," as the three embraced one last time. When they pulled away, Dagur planted a heavy hand on Hiccup's shoulder. "Why don't we go back to getting dinner on the table, brother? I'm still serious about dedicating that big bitch to your Astrid," and he gestured back to the bull. Hiccup laughed and tossed an arm around his shoulder, "Sure, brother. Besides, the way his intestines are dangling out is kinda gross if you ask me."

* * *

**o0o**

"My lady, your ships just crossed into the Viking archipelago."

Daenerys Targaryen sat aside the numerous pamphlets Varys had delivered her before she embarked on her journey. All the writing was based in the language of the Vikings, Norse, and the queen was preparing herself in case no one understood the common tongue. The dialect was quite harsh, nothing compared to the poetic sentencing of Valyrian, but nowhere near the Dothraki tongue. 

Dany smiled sweetly at Missandei, "Thank you, my dear friend, for letting me now. Does Ser Jorah know where we'll be checking first?"

Missandei nodded, "Yes, your grace. The merchant has directed your sea master towards a specific island two days away. According to him, your daughter has taken up residence there."

My Astrid, Dany thought, her heart fluttering in her chest. So close is she to finding and bringing her back home, where she belongs. She accompanied Missandei up to the quarter-deck, where Ser Jorah and the merchant were discussing something. "Ser Jorah! Johann!" Daenerys greeted, and the two men turned in her direction. "Your majesty! I am honored to bring you and your daughter, the dragon princess, back together," the merchant, Johann, bowed out of respect. 

Dany had found his curled, brownish mustache and flamboyant clothing a tad funny, but he was as kind and respectful as one can be, and she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, "Do rise, you honor me. I am the one who must thank you. Countless years I've searched for my Astrid, only for all to end in failure. If I do indeed find her, you shall receive the reward of your heart's desire."

"The continuation of trading within your ports at King's Landing is the only humble reward I only ask of, your majesty."

"Then, it is done. You'll be my personal merchant, and I'll look onward to seeing you and your fascinating sales," she replied with a grin. "However, If I may, what is the name of this island you have seen on my daughter on?"

Johann gestured dramatically to the spacious sea with his hands, "Yes. Nestled deep within these foreign waters is an island by the name of Berk. Home to the seven generations of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, currently led by high Chief Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock."

Missandie wrinkled her nose, "Hairy Hooligan tribe? What sort of name is that?"

"The Viking tribes of this archipelago do have the most unusual names, such as the Bog Burglars, a tribe of vigorous shieldmaidens, and the Berserkers, crazed, bloodthirsty bastards, and a key ally for the Berkians. According to Viking lore, repulsive names are to scare away trolls and goblins and other terrifying creatures that lurk in the shadows," Johann answered, chuckling. 

"And my daughter is living on Berk," Daenerys remarked, though the trader couldn't determine whether or not she was talking to him or herself. "Yes, my lady. Astrid discovered great refuge with the Berkians, who soon accepted her as their own. They sincerely adore her, particularly the chief's son."

Dany stared at him, wide-eyed. "The chief's son," she echoed. 

"That is right. He took quite a fancy to her; anyone could see it. The two are relatively close, in love, some may say, me being one of them." All six eyes were settled directly on him, and the silver queen appeared as if she was about to comment on something, but Johann wasn't finished. "The council has recently decided that she is to wed him soon and take on the role of his chieftess." 

"As we speak, Daenerys Targaryen, Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock and his son, Hiccup Haddock III, are preparing to pay the bride price for your daughter's hand in marriage."

**o0o**


	5. V

**V**

* * *

**o0o**

| A two month or so later |

Midday found the dragon riders seated around the clubhouse table, devouring a delicious lunch of Yak chops and roasted roots, courtesy of Heather, and Fishlegs.

Hiccup chose then to utilize the break period to review the organized list of chores for the new week. "On stable/barn duty are the twins. You two are in charge of making sure the cows are properly cared for and fed. Later this week, Dagur, Fishlegs, and I will be conducting pregnancy checks on them. Fingers crossed that my father's bull did his job."

The twins groaned, opening their mouths to voice a complaint, but Hiccup cut them off sharply, "Or better yet, I'll give Heather that job and make you shovel you two's boars' shit, every day of the week. Would that be a better option instead?" He received no grievance after that threat, and the rest of the riders chuckled at the offended expressions of the twins.

The fawn Astrid had saved ere her demise, Rhaenra, had grown quite a bit during the months, but she still ran throughout the room, bleating soft cries to those who paid her any attention. "She'll never grow up," Heather mused, watching the fawn hop around on delicate hooves. She took a personal liking to Hiccup and nibbled at his pants. The man stared down at her and grinned, reaching down to pet her fuzzy head before resuming his list.

"Fishlegs, you're on food gathering and storing. We still have quite a lot of salt to use on the meat and poultry, and I noticed some fresh roots sprouting along the riverbank-" he was interrupted by a mulberry-colored terrible terror, who abruptly sped into the room. Tied around its leg was a rolled-up parchment, and Hiccup quickly realized the dragon was Stoick's. "Hmm, what do we have here?" His eyebrow lifted as he read the message wordlessly, ignoring the curious looks thrown his way.

"What is it, Hiccup?" Fishlegs asked after a minute of silence.

Hiccup rolled the message back up and tucked it in a pocket, "It's my father. He's requesting our audience back on Berk. Someone of 'extreme importance' has sailed into the harbor and is wanting to specifically meet us dragon riders."

"Did your father say who the person was?" asked Heather.

Hiccup shook his head, "No, only that it's a woman, judging by the way he included 'she' in his letter." He gave one last pat ontop the terrible terror's head before it flew out of the room.

Snotlout lazily poked at the yak chop on his plate, "I'm betting it's some distant chief's daughter who's wanting to make the famed 'dragon master' her husband. Make sure she's hot before agreeing, cuz." And he laughed as if what he said was amusing.

"Snotlout, I'd be quiet if I were you..." Fishlegs advised carefully.

But the shorter, much more arrogant Viking didn't heed his warning. "Why? It's been almost three months, Fishface. You can't tell me Hiccup shouldn't start to move on, wet his dick a little, and stop mourning over Astrid's death. Sure we all miss her, but he's our future chief, for Thor's sake! He's gonna need an heir sooner or later!" He exclaimed, chest heaving.

Ruffnut sucked in a breath while her brother covered Chicken's eyes, muttering about how this scene was about to turn uglier than a momma yak's ass after labor. Heather and Fishlegs looked at each other and then at Hiccup, who was glowering at his cousin.

The auburn's face had colored scarlet, and his lips tightened into a thin line, thick eyebrows furrowed. Dagur attempted to ease him back into his seat, but his brother shoved him off, instead, throwing a finger at Snotlout. His other hand was firmly clutching a silver streak knife, causing Snotlout to gulp uneasily.

Hiccup was much too a pacifist to murder him... right?

"You know damn well I won't take a spouse that isn't Astrid, you blubbering, thick-headed bastard. Berk's council had already appointed her worthy of taking my hand in marriage before she died; she was mine, and mine alone. Don't you dare think I'll shove my dick into the next girl who flaunts herself at me! And as for the rest of you, get ready. We take flight in an hour; we don't want to keep our guest waiting anymore longer," and he stepped out of the clubhouse, a confused Toothless following after him.

Ruffnut didn't wait in launching a chewed bone at Snotlout's face. "You're such a fucking dumbass, Snotguts. Now we're gonna have to deal with a pissed off Hiccup all the way back to Berk! Can't you learn how to shut the fuck up and not say stupid shit?!" She flung her arms in the air while screeching loudly.

"Uhh, Tuff? Shouldn't you calm your sister down?" Fishlegs offered, smacking the man's shoulder. He only shrugged, stuffing another piece of Yak into his mouth, "She should let it all out. Pent-up resentment is a leading cause for facial acne, and I'm not sharing my ox-butter lotion with her." Groaning, Heather seized Ruffnut's shoulder, reeling her back, whispering, "Shhh, calm down. Don't get too worked up; he isn't worth it."

"Remember the acne, sis!" Tuffnut cried out.

The female Thorston stared daggers at the shorter brunette and huffed, "Fine. But say one stupid-ass comment like that, and I'll have Belch light your ass up. C'mon, Heather, let's get ready. All these dicks are giving me a headache." She tugged her friend out of the clubhouse, grumbling along the way.

Snotlout tenderly rubbed his smacked face, whimpering out, "Thor, what did I do wrong? I just spoke the truth!"

Dagur rolled his eyes, inspecting his teeth in his knife's blade's reflection. "Ruff's right. You are a complete dumbass. Hiccup's going through some heartbreaking shit, snotface. He's not just magically gonna feel better and move on right after losing the love of his life." He then embedded the knife's sharpened point into the table, peering up at the younger man, "Astrid was promised to him; he won't wed anyone else anytime soon. Not that you care nor understand, of course. You always assumed she'd open her legs for your tiny dick."

Afterward, he rose to his feet. "I'm gonna go check on my little brother. You two, try not to murder Snotlout. And if you can't, do it in the most excruciating way possible," leaving Snotlout to glance worriedly between Fishlegs and Tuffnut.

* * *

**o0o**

Once in the privacy of his hut, Hiccup let out an uncontrolled, dragonic roar, tugging recklessly at the two braids in his hair. "For fuck's sake, she was mine," he roared, throwing himself onto his padded knees. "She was mine to wed, the future mother of my heirs, and now she's gone. Why? Why Thor, why Odin, why Freyja? Why must you take away the most important person in my life?" His breath became choppy, and tears blurred his visions as unwanted thoughts swelled in his mind.

Never will he hold her beautiful, amazing self in his arms. Never will he see the blonde-haired, blue-eyed children he'd dreamt of a hundred times before- the undying proof of the love shared between the two. All those waking years, he prepped for her hand in marriage only to lose her in the end. It made him seethe all the more.

"I don't want anyone else," he murmured darkly. "No one but her."

Was it possible to bring someone back from the grave? Hiccup had heard of dark magic before, but such a practice was banned from Berk, set in law by his great-grandfather. And didn't the reviving of a deceased person require their remains? Hiccup never actually located Astrid's body after the fire. She was nothing but a bitter memory of his past pleasant days.

However, there was a voice towards the back of his head. It whispered that his girl wasn't dead but waiting for him to find her. It made him scoff. Hiccup chose then to shove it the farthest away in his mind, where he wouldn't dwell on such ridiculous thoughts.

"She's gone-she's gone- she's gone," he repeated, cradling his head.

Hiccup hoped to Odin that whoever sailed into Berk's harbor wasn't seeking a marriage contract with him. He'd have no choice but to deny it, ascertaining the fact that no woman could ever take his Astrid's place in his heart. "Weasel-face bastard, that Snotlout," he growled, lifting himself back to his foot. "How dare he assume I'd swoop down to his level and fuck a stranger in a heartbeat."

He wildly tugged at his braids again. The braids that Astrid braided into his hair all those months ago. Now he deeply regrets complaining and whining every time she sat him between her legs, pulling at his locks knowingly with that pretty smirk.

"If I would've known, I'd ask for more," he whispered. What he'd sacrifice to the gods just to bring her back for another braiding session.

"Please, please, please," he pleaded softly. "Come back to me. I need you, Ast. More than ever."

Behind him, Toothless warbled in concern. He observed his human's break down, the way he screamed for his mate, and cooed gently, attracting Hiccup's attention. The dragon approached cautiously, eyes wide, and head tilted in a direction he knew his best friend found adorable. Hiccup sighed, running a hand through his thick, auburn locks. "I know, bud. I must sound like a madman right now. But can you blame me?"

Toothless shook his head, pressing his snout against Hiccup's stomach. His eyes told the man that all was understood.

"It's just, well, I don't know what I'm going to do now," Hiccup admitted as he ventured towards his bed, sitting down on it. "Now that she's gone, and I mean truly gone, I don't know how different my life's gonna be from now on." He tucked his face deep in his palms, breathing strongly. His mind wandered back to the day he was called back to Berk on an urgent notice...

**=x=**

_"Hiccup, lad, there ye are!" Thundered his father's heavy accent, sounding ecstatic at seeing him arrive back home on Berk._

_Hiccup instantly dismounted Toothless and wrapped his arms around his father, hugging the larger man as tightly as he could. "Hey, dad," he greeted back, a genuine smile on his face. "I got your terror mail. Is anything wrong? Should I be worried?"_

_"Always jumpin' on the negative wagon, son," Stoick chuckled, patting his son's back. "No, nothing is wrong. In fact, everyone is in good enough spirits as they could ever be. We recently had a pod of whales stroll into our waters, and, well, Gobber and I, we had the time of our lives hunting 'em."_

_Hiccup smiled at the huge grin plastered on his father's face. "Wow, hunting whales made you so happy you called me back to Berk to...tell me about it?" He questioned awkwardly, rubbing the shoulder Stoick colored, laughing slightly. The two were strolling through Berk, watching their people hurry along the numerous highways of dirt paths, armed with chores of all sorts. A balding Sven was herding a few ewes back to his pasture, and he halted to wave at them._

_"Ayo, 'Iccup!" He called out, "How ye doin', boyo?"_

_"I'm doing fine, Sven! How are you and your flock doing?"_

_The man laughed and gestured to a pretty, black ewe. Nestled in her fleece was a black lamb, "Better than ever! The newest came in a few moons ago. The kiddos simply adore 'em to the bone, although the missus could do without 'em. Too much a mess, the woman claims." Chuckling one final time, he tipped his straw hat down at his chief and heir and continued onward to his property, whistling happily._

_"Was it me, or did Sven seem happier than normal?" Hiccup asked his father, one thick, red eyebrow lifted._

_Stoick shrugged, but instead of answering, he hailed the unoccupied blacksmith over as they crossed by the forge. Gobber the Belch, with all his two limbs and dusty blonde mustache, hobbled to where the two Haddocks stood. "Nice to see you again, boyo!" He greeted brightly, clouting Hiccup on the back, drawing a wince from the younger man. "Gods, what is with you two and leaving bruises on my shoulders," he complained._

_"Hehe, sorry, laddie. Well, I'm sure you're here to hear the good ol' news, ay?" Gobber asked while plucking an ember off of his vest. There was a goofy smile on his face._

_Hiccup blinked, looking between Stoick and Gobber. "News? What news?"_

_"ACK! Gobber! I haven't told the lad yet! We're on our way to meet with the elders!"_

_"Meet with the elders?" Hiccup's face contorted with confusion. " Why, what's going on, dad?"_

_"You'll see when we get there, son" The trio walked along the dirt pathway, passing fellow Berkians who all shot the young man a bright grin. "Does everyone know but me?" Hiccup whined, only half-serious, "I feel as if a mysterious, foreign bird, and they're all hunters who haven't dined in weeks." Gobber chuckled at his words, "Always oddly specific with your feelings, huh, 'Iccup."_

_The great Mead Hall appeared before them, and the three men hurriedly climbed the marble stairs. Hiccup didn't fail in catching the unusual bounce in his father's steps, something not typical for the burly, redhead Viking chest. His eyebrow raised at sight, but he lowered it when Gobber forced the Hall's two enormous, decorated doors open. "C'mon, son. They're waiting for us inside."_

_Inside, torches brightened the stoned pathway, and as Hiccup stared up at the towering, stone-carved Viking statues holding swords and shields, he felt shrunken._

_Seated at the large, wooden tables were the village elders, with Gothi seated in her respectable chair, and Stoick took his allocated seat in the middle. Gobber leaned against one of the pillars and gently pushed Hiccup forward, whispering, "It's ok, lad. They're not here to bit ye head off."_

_Hiccup straightened his shoulders and rubbed away the sweat from his palms. All the eyes aimed directly on him made him feel as if he was that scrawny, no-good screwup of his childhood, once again anticipating scorn for mingling in business not meant for him. All was quiet, no one attempted to speak, till one elder did._

_"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the famed dragon master. We hope ye are doing well, son," Vragi said. His dark braids dangled down his back in a tangled mess, and Hiccup counted quite a few missing teeth from his cracked mouth, but the elder was knowledgeable beyond his years. When he spoke, everyone listened._

_"I am doing fine, Vragi," Hiccup answered._

_Another elder piped up, his peculiarly large tongue producing a lisp, "And how are ye riderths back on that edge of yours. Lasth time we heard, ye were battling em basthards the dragon hunters." Hiccup nodded, "Yes, sir. We acquired an alliance with the Defenders of the Wing and the Berserkers, and the two aid us greatly in battle. We are coming close in defeating Viggo and Ryker for goo-."_

_"Do you mean to tell us that Dagur the Deranged is an ally of yours?" Thora, Gothi's sister, interrupted rudely, her shrill voice a pain to the ears. She appeared almost offended at the thought of the Berserker chief working with Berk's heir. "The same Dagur that tried to destroy Berk and slaughter you numerous times?" Hiccup narrowed his eyes, "Yes, Thora, Dagur is my ally. He has proven himself a reliable friend and has become a brother figure to me."_

_"Oh, will ye hush ye mouth, Thora? Mother can hear you from her watery grave, ye old bat," Gothi sneered, whacking her lightly with her stick. From behind Hiccup, Gobber snorted. She then sent a sharp nod at Stoick, causing him to clear his throat gruffly. "Yes, well, I know we'd all love to hear Hiccup's stories of adventure; however, this isn't why he's here."_

_The chief leaned forward, staring into his son's green eyes, "Son, you're doing amazing on ye own. You're a chief, though your tribe may be small, as ye stop at nothing to protect and lead those riders through unknown territories. I couldn't ask for a better successor. And that is the reason why the council has gathered here today, to discuss a matter of extreme importance in ye life."_

_Hiccup groaned inwardly, praying his father wasn't asking for him to return to Berk so soon. He assumed he had a few years of freedom left before he was handed down the chiefdom from Stoick. "Dad, I-" but Stoick lifted a large hand in the air, stopping his son before he could speak. "Let me finish, son."_

_"As you know, every successful chief needs an equally successful chieftess by his side. Someone he can trust to listen when he speaks of problems and who'll offer advice in times of need. A chieftess who'll protect her tribe when her husband is not present, who'll listen to the cries of her people and care for them as if they were her children And..." he eyed the elders, who nodded at him. "The elders decided someone worthy enough of such a task."_

_"Father..." Hiccup began worryingly, taking a step forward. Stoick stopped him again, noticing the look of panic daubed on his son's features, "Do not fret, lad. It's not a stranger from another island who I've signed a contract with." Hiccup let out a breath of relief, his tight shoulders loosening. "Oh, thank gods. Wait, if it's not a chief's daughter, then who is it?"_

_Smiles went around in a circle. First Stoick, then Gothi, Vragi, and the other elders, ending with a grinning Gobber._

_"Your chosen chieftess is Astrid, son. The bride price is being drawn up. If all goes as plan, you'll wed her the next time you touch ground here on Berk."_

**=x=**

"Brother, are you ok? Your hut seems awfully quiet. You're not dead, are you?"

Dagur's unexpected voice brought Hiccup out of his flashback. He looked at the night fury beside him and sighed. "Can't escape reality, can we, bud?" The dragon purred sadly, shaking his head. "Eh, didn't expect you to say yes." He took a glance at the handmade sundial nailed high on his wall.

"We should get ready. I told the others we'll be leaving in an hour, and I don't want them to be waiting for me."

Hiccup rose back on his foot, stretching his arms out, feeling his shoulders pop. Letting out a deep breath, he sent a weak smile at Toothless. "Life has to go on, doesn't it, bud? I know, I know, but I just miss her so much..." he trailed off at the end, feeling the familiar, painful thump in his chest.

"I know you do, brother. We all do as Heather said earlier, " Dagur reminded as he ventured into the hut, a sad smile curled on his lips. His eyes were sympathetic, and he laid a hand on Hiccup's shoulder, staring deep in his eyes. "You're not alone," he quoted, something Hiccup repeatedly heard throughout these hard months.

'You're not alone.'

'We're all feeling the pain, not just you.'

Hiccup nodded, a fake smile on his face. He felt alone, no matter how many times the others corrected him. No one shared the same pain he did, not even Heather, who was closest to Astrid beside Hiccup. Dagur studied him carefully and sighed, "Hiccup, I know that fake smile from anywher-"

"Hey, are you two ready? The rest of us are ready to go," Snotlout questioned, leaving Hookfang at the hut's entrance as he sauntered in, "They sent me to come and get you guys." Dagur and Hiccup stared at him, causing him to shuffle a foot awkwardly. "Or...you should I give you some more time..?" He added cheekily when neither man answered. Hiccup's stare turned to an icy glare, and Dagur shoved an arm in front of him.

'Don't do anything you'll regret,' read the Berserker's eyes.

Quickly sensing the unfriendly tension in the air, the brunette rubbed the back of his neck, "Hiccup? Listen, I just wanted to say that I'm..I'm sorry. What I said was pretty insensitive, especially to you. I don't know what overcame me. Honestly. And I feel like a steaming pile of yak shit and the worst cousin in the world. I'll do better, I promise. I swear on Hookfang's life."

Outside, the waiting dragon gnarred warningly.

Hiccup stepped in front of the shorter man and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I'm used to your shit by now. Sure, it pissed me off, but at the end of the day, blood is thicker than water," and he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. Snotlout let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, dramatically wiping a fake line of sweat on his forehead, "Whew, thank the gods. Now, if all is good between us, ready to head out?"

Toothless warbled next to Hookfang, and Hiccup nodded. "Yeah, let's get going. It'll be pretty late when we arrive on Berk, and I don't want my father pissed at us."

As the three men exited the hut, Hiccup's eyes strayed to a drawing waving on the nearby wall. It was a pretty one of a beaming Astrid, with a flower wreath adorning her round head. He drew it during one of their secret meetings, where she felt trusted enough to show off her soft side. She was so beautiful, lying there on the sweet summer grass as he sketched her in his journal. The afternoon sunlight did magic that day, highlighting the gold of her hair and the freckles dusted on her cheeks.

Despite himself, he smiled.

The journey may be tedious, but in the end, healing would be his and his friends' reward.

* * *

**o0o**

_"Is it true, momma, that love birds mate for life?" A little girl, no older than six summers, asked. Her eyes were large and innocent as they stared up at the love birds nesting in a tree above. "Aunt Missandei says that if one dies, the other will soon follow."_

_Her mother chuckled a little, burrowing a hand in her daughter's thick braids. "I don't know, sweetling. The love birds don't really come down from their homes in the trees. Maybe we are a little too wild to them or they're too docile for us," and she sighed before drawing her girl close to her chest._

_"But, perhaps in the far future, you'll find out that answer yourself when you meet your love bird," she then booped her nose gently, causing the daughter to giggle._

_And though she didn't dare say it out loud, fearing she sounded selfish, she sincerely hoped that the future she just suggested was far away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I encourage any reader to leave behind a comment/review. I love to hear feedback from you guys, including possible ideas for this story. It encourages me to write all the more. Ahéhee’


	6. VI

**VI**

* * *

**o0o**

|Somewhere in the Open Ocean|

The gloaming waves crashed gently against the large boat. It was a pleasing feeling, enough to rock the sailors to a restful slumber.

However, that was very much not the case.

A heavy-set guard trotted through the dimly lit hall, passing pretty jade-colored cells on the side. Inside sat the bones of various dragons, all ill-fated, and all victims of the Grimborn brothers. Every cell he passed, the guard could make out the remains of many a man the brothers equally doomed for reasons. A brother his junior was one. And if he didn't hurry to the captain's quarters, he too might share the same fate.

In one beefy hand, he held a rolled-up parchment made of pig intestines with a stamp of blood. Whose blood, the man wished not to know.

At the captain's door stood two more guards at attention, gripping the assigned dragon hunter weaponry in each hand. "Viggo is waiting for you," one croaked. "And he's not pleased. Don't expect much kindness from him," the other additionally added. The man gulped before pushing his shoulders back, straightening his back out, and nodding.

"Not my fault, I can say that. I blame Irriwer. Bastard took too long getting the confirmation."

The guard on the left chuckled though it held zero amusement. It was rather low and dark and hideous. "Your father once said the same. He soon learned that Viggo doesn't give two blubbering shits what your excuse is, my boy."

Sighing, the man nodded and the right guard knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened, and the messenger hurried in, leaving behind the two guards. The room was darker than the hall outside, and his eyes took a little to adjust to his new surroundings. One torch was lit, and then another, and the man soon noticed Ryker Grimborn standing a little too close to him. Fortunately, his jade sword was sheathed.

"I have the letter, boss. Right here, as you desired," and he handed the parchment to Ryker, who, in turn, gave it to a seated Viggo.

Viggo unrolled the letter, his eyes greatly swallowing each word written. His lips twisted into a smirk as he read, though it did not reach his dark eyes. "So, according to our men by Odin's straight, the Mother of Dragons has ventured into our waters. What do you think about that, brother?"

"I think we should pay the whore a little visit," Ryker responded, a cruel glint in his eye.

Viggo nodded in agreement, tossing the letter to the side of his messy desk. "It is said that she's the most beautiful woman in the world. With hair of silver and eyes of amethyst; the true features of the Valyrian dragon." The messenger cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow raised high but he didn't dare mutter a single word. He was notably confused, but both his fear and respect for the Grimborns kept him quiet.

"Her daughter is of the exact, great beauty too," Ryker commented, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's quite the shame those features were hidden by that witch. If that wasn't the case, it surely would've made battling those damn dragon-riding cunts all the more interesting," but Viggo held one hand up, shaking his head.

He seemed disappointed, almost as if what Ryker said was disrespectful.

"A witch was not the woman who hid the daughter's features, but a priestess of light," Viggo corrected. "One of the first, in fact. She is as ancient as the stars that escort us, sailors, at night, as learned as the waves of Lir, and beautiful like her master god. Don't you believe someone of that rank deserves a little more respect on her name? Father raised us better than that, dear brother of mine."

Ryker only grunted in response.

Viggo turned his attention back to his messenger. He saw the look of confusion dead on the man's ugly face. "The Mother of Dragons is a dragon herself, born to a sacred bloodline of its own. It is common knowledge that she is no ordinary woman, and from what I have seen in the past, her daughter is the same. That is why we must act fast, my son."

_'my son...'_

The man's posture became a little more relaxed, his shoulders a bit sluggish, and Viggo dared to say his hair the slightest unkept. The sight didn't sit well within Viggo's stomach, who favored seeing his men standing at attention at all times. But he didn't mutter a comment; instead, emptying a pitcher of wine into an old gold grail and raising it in the air towards him, like a toast.

"Thank you, friend, for bringing to me this letter of especial importance. You lifted a great burden off my weakening shoulders." He awarded him a kind smile. "Do you wish for some wine? I know it is not the same without a whore pouring it, but it's the thought that counts." Viggo snapped his fingers and Ryker presented the man a grail of his own.

The man took the cup and sent the brothers a grateful smile. "You are too kind, sir," he replied and drank the same wine Viggo did. It felt weird, being treated as an equal, but he didn't dare speak against it. Leaving the chambers alive was his main goal at the moment; establishing a friendship with the Grimborns was something scarce and probably impossible.

Viggo watched the man wine on his refreshments and drew a chuckle. The smile curled on his lips fell and he shook his head.

"Kind I am, yet you kept me waiting. Hours and hours. I expected better, especially from... you, who's been by my side for many the years." His tone mimicked a scolding elder, and from the corner of his eye, the man noticed Ryker unsheathing his sword. "That sort of behavior is not acceptable. I am afraid you must now suffer the consequences..." His heart began to beat wildly, almost painfully, inside his chest.

The goblet fell when he dropped to his knees.

"Viggo, sir, I did not intend for you to feel disrespected in any way. Tis the truth, sir!"

Viggo Grimborn stared down at the man, another mock playing on his lips. "But, you see, I did feel disrespected, all the more when you drank in my presence..."

The man begged further, clasping his hands together. He felt pathetic yet desperate, sensing the smallest tears swelling near the corner of his eyes. "Please, sir, I beg you of forgiveness. Of mercy..."

His boss only shook his head again.

"Unfortunately, I find it difficult for you to be forgiven. We can't afford mistakes like this again...," and he sent a sharp nod to his brother Ryker Grimborn, who stood behind the doomed messenger.

Ever the swiftest, Ryker drove the point of his blade clean through the man's throat and then slowly started to turn the sword. Viggo watched on, emotionless. The man clawed at the air around him, both choking cries and rivulets of blood escaping his mouth, frozen in an open cry. As Ryker drew the blade back, the man's eyes rolled back too.

His body collapsed forward, hitting the ground with a resounding thump. Pools of blood swelled around him, yet his chest still rose and fell.

"Ah, brother, you bloody fool! You did it again, I'm afraid. Don't you remember what father taught us? A blade to the heart kills, not one to the neck! Now we have to watch it suffer during its final breaths. Tsk tsk tsk," Viggo mentioned, raising the lovely cup back to his lips. The wine was as thick and red as the blood before him; it made him ever the more thirsty.

Ryker huffed, using a cloth to wipe away some of the man's blood. "The slaughter is always more entertaining than the hunt. Father taught us that too, or have you forgotten?"

Viggo narrowed his eyes but said nothing more, taking another sip of his wine.

"Get rid of his body, brother. It's a despicable sight."

Ryker nodded and seized the dead man's legs. "Open the door!" He bellowed, and the guards standing outside immediately opened the door for him, obviously unfazed by the prior event. Ryker Grimborn proceeded to haul the body out of the room with no care, varnishing the wooden floor with a trail of blood. The two remaining guards then took back their assigned position on either side of the doorway.

Only the older of the two shook his head.

He lost another son.

**o0o**

Docked in Berk's harbor was a ship, one of non-viking origin Hiccup could tell almost immediately. Enormous in size, it towered over the majority of the neighboring Berkian fishing boats; such was a magnificent sight to dragon riders' weary eyes. "Woah," the blonde Thorston twins awed simultaneously. "I want to touch it," both announced, directing their two-headed dragon closer to the ship.

"Guys," Hiccup snapped. "We are here to meet up with my dad and Berk's guest of honor. There will be no fooling around as long as she's here. We are not only representing our home but dragon riders entirely. Am I understood, loud and clear?"

Tuffnut snorted, bending down to stroke Barf's neck, "Do not fret, my valorous leader. We shall make you proud. Cross my heart and hope Ruffnut dies." His sister slapped his shoulder and threw him the finger, but looked at Hiccup, "I make that promise too," she promised him lazily, swiping a finger above her heart. "Now, c'mon. I wanna see who this woman is."

Everyone was in high spirits, excited to the max to meet this 'mysterious woman' whom Stoick spoke so little of in his letter. Along the way, each rider drew up a possible answer on who she could be. A foreign princess, or a queen? A chief's daughter, Snotlout stuck to, while Heather and Fishlegs wished her to be a much-needed ally against the dragon hunters.

"Hiccup!" Fishlegs shouted from Hiccup's left, "Look at the figurehead! And the sails! Oh, wow!"

Hiccup followed the husky boy's pointing back to the strange ship. Fashioned from ebony, the coloring was dark and beautiful, its wood burnished and gleaming in the ray beams of the late evening sun. The figurehead Fishlegs excitedly indicated to was carved into the shape of a three-headed dragon. One head was facing front while its sister heads were facing right and left, all mouths opened wide, eyes narrowed. "Hmm...," Hiccup mumbled, still examining the carving.

Heather flew Windshear next to Hiccup, "Possible allies?" She asked him.

He shook his head. "No idea, sis, but now we have a good reason to meet this person."

"Damn, the sails are gorgeous," Dagur whistled. Hiccup agreed with him on that. Both the mainsail and foresail were a solid black, and embroidered in the middle was a blood-red three-headed dragon, sporting white eyes, tongues, and claws. "Whoever this person is, seems to me they really like three-headed dragons. Wait, Hiccup, does such a dragon exist? Come to think about it, I've never seen one before in my life," Fishlegs said, a finger on his chin.

"You're right, Fishlegs. I don't think three-headed dragons exist either unless we haven't explored far enough to discover them."

Fishlegs shot his friend a sly smile, "Do I detect a possible exploration once we return back to the Edge?"

It would take his mind off of everything, Hiccup thought about. He liked the idea very much. "Let's talk more about it afterward," he chuckled. Toothless warbled softly, and Hiccup leaned over to rub his neck, "You like the idea too, bud? Yeah, I knew you would."

"Hey, bro, do you think we could convince this person to switch to a two-headed dragon?" Ruffnut shouted, despite her brother sitting beside her. He stroked his long chin, deep in thought, "Hm, I don't quite know about that, sis. Although it could save them a shit load of wood and fabric...actually, you know what? I like the idea. We could give her Barf and Belch as part of the starter kit!" Their dragons growled beneath them. "Oh, hush. As if we'd ever give you guys away."

"Muttonheads..," Snotlout grumbled from his seat on Hookfang.

Heather laughed, "Like you're any better, cupcake." The brunette shot her a glare.

Hiccup rolled his eyes before directing Toothless towards the Mead Hall. "Oh, I see that Gobber's outside. That more than likely means my father's inside," he told the others behind his shoulder, dipping down before the grand staircase. Gobber the Belch was leaning against the stone wall, watching the riders descend a few feet away with a grin. He appeared clean and his arm and leg were recently polished.

"Took ye long enough, boy," he called out as Hiccup dismounted Toothless. "Ye father's inside. He told me to wait for ye, instructing me to bring all of yea in at the same time. Thank the gods our guest is quite considerate towards the fact ye was coming hundreds of miles away, aye." The group flooded around the blacksmith, a plethora of questions resting on all their tongues.

"Who is she?"

"Where did she come from?"

"Is she hot? Tell me she's hot!" Ruffnut and Heather didn't hesitate in clouting Snotlout's shoulder.

"Why is she here?"

Gobber held his one hand up, silencing the riders at once. "Quite ye yapping. All of ye. Gods, worse than a newborn ox calf. Now, c'mon," he waved them in, climbing the stairs. Hiccup trailed after him but paused when he noticed his two best riders idling at the foot of the stairs. "Hiccup, why don't we stay behind out here. You go inside, meet your father, and this guest," Heather began but was cut off by Gobber.

"That won't do lass. She wants to meet ye too, in fact. All of ye, actually, asked specifically by name."

"Really," Ruffnut said, a hand setting over her heart. A flattering look twisting her pretty, long face," By name?"

"Well," Gobber drawled, "Not by name. But she did say, "I want to talk to the dragon riders of Berk." She could've meant all of Berk, seeing how we ride 'em beasts, but Stoick had a feeling she wanted ye all."

Hiccup nodded, "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go meet her then."

As Gobber swung the door open, the ground lightly vibrated as a booming roar sounded a good distance away. "Woah, what was that?" Dagur asked after the roar faded in the distance. "You guys heard that too, right?"

Hiccup looked to the blacksmith, "Gobber what was that? It didn't sound good," but the older man shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't know. Berk's been hearing that for a few hours already, but we haven't the slightest clue on what's makin' that ugly noise. It started when our guest arrived, so she probably knows. You might do good askin' her."

"Alright," Hiccup said. "I might do so."

Inside, the Mead Hall was brighter and more glorious than what Hiccup could ever recollect in all of his eighteen summers. The floors appeared freshly swept and waxed to where the young man could see his reflection frowning back at him. Ten Viking statues of Berk's ancestors were gleaming beautifully, the tapestries along the walls fluttering gently from the entering wind, and the gentle fragrance of pine struck his nose.

"Wow, when was the last time this dump had a proper cleaning," Snotlout murmured in the back. "Shit's glowing brighter than a fireworm queen."

"Shut up, Snotlout," Heather scowled quietly. "No cussing while we're in here, remember?" Snotlout shot her a mocking scowl but kept quiet, rolling his eyes instead.

At the end of the pathway, standing close to a new fire, was Stoick, donning his finest tunic, fur vest, and pants. His boots seemed recently buffed and shone, and instead of his usual metal-studded, leather belt, he wore the Haddock chieftain belt, with a symbol of a Viking and dragon decorating the center. On his shoulders was a heavy fur cloak of a cave bear. His thick, red beard was brushed and braided cleanly, clips of black sapphires holding them together.

Hiccup lifted en eyebrow at the unusual sight before him.

How important was this guest to where his father had even dressed up? Now feeling a little insecure, Hiccup dusted off his red tunic and straightened his back.

"Ah, Hiccup, son!" Stoick shouted heartily, a huge smile on his face. "C'mere!" He laid one heavy paw on Hiccup's shoulders and used the other to gesture forward, where an unknown woman and her party stood. "Your majesty, may I present to you my son and heir, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. The Pride of Berk and the finest Dragon Master of this archipelago!"

Nodding kindly, the woman took a small step closer, and when the fire lightened her face, the young man lost all the breath in his lungs.

Hiccup studied her features, hoping he didn't appear rude or insulting. Truth be told, she was probably one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life. Her hair was an incredible silver, long and styled in a series of braids with tiny bells that twinkled from the slight breeze of the outside. The eyes that stared back at him were violet, an eye color Hiccup had never seen beheld before, and undeniably gorgeous.

But it was her smile that caught his attention from the beginning. He had seen it before, he swore in his head. It was so familiar yet he had no idea how or why. It made his broken heart do a series of twists and turns.

Standing to her side was an additional woman, just as beautiful, with hair, eyes, and skin different shades of brown. She wore a dark layered dress and a three-headed dragon circled pin on her chest

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," the woman began, "You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Queen and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. The Unburnt. The Breaker of Chains and the Mother of Dragons."

Hiccup's eyes widened. "Mother of Dragons?" he echoed. What did this herald mean by such a title?

"Yes," Daenerys replied politely. "From my faith and need, I birthed four dragons, three sons and a daughter. They were believed to be the last dragons the world had seen in centuries until I traveled to your native archipelago. I've heard accounts of your courage, of how you brought peace between your kind and the dragons, and the oath you've taken in protecting my kin. I must thank you, Hiccup Haddock, from the bottom of my heart."

A small blush fell over his cheeks, and he smiled at her. "The pleasure is all mine, your majesty."

"Oh, please, call me Daenerys. This is my dear and most trusted advisor and translator, Missandei of Naarth," she gestured to the herald, who smiled in return. "My two knightguards, Ser Jorah Mormont and Ser Barristan Semly," and two men, standing in the shadows, gave a curt nod. Their hands never moved from their sheathed swords.

Hiccup nodded back, "It is a pleasure to meet you all. Allow me to introduce to you my riders, who partake in rescuing and protecting all of dragon life. This is Fishlegs Ingerman, Snotlout Jorgenson, Tuffnut and Ruffnut Thorston, and here," he added, indicating to Dagur and Heather, "Is the high chief of Berserker Island, Dagur Oswald, and his sister, heir, and second-in-command, Heather Oswald."

The riders politely waved, replying with some sort of respective greeting. All except Fishlegs, who jumped up and down with sheer joy.

"Mother of Dragons, please accept this piece as a token of my gratitude," he babbled on awkwardly, handing her a stitched scarf with a Meatlug. His chubby face was glowing with awe, and his smile was stretched far and beaming. Daenerys laughed softly, taking the scarf from him, seeing a rock-like dragon embellished in the middle, "Thank you, Fishlegs. This is quite...beautiful. I shall remember your kindness when I look at it."

"Where did that scarf even come from?" Tuffnut whispered to Snotlout, who looked equally confused. "It's Fishface. He's a walking Meatlug fan booth," Snotlout snickered back.

Stoick Haddock cleared his throat while Gobber dragged Fishlegs back to the riders. "Queen Daenerys is quite an astounding person, and I know ye all are excited to get to know her, but unfortunately she isn't here for vacation. There is an important matter to discuss, am I right, ye majesty?"

Daenerys handed Fishlegs's gift to Missandei before turning back. "You're correct, Chief Stoick," she answered. "However, I see that your riders appear exhausted to the brim from their lengthy travel, and seeing how it's nearing the night, I propose we move this meeting to tomorrow if that is alright with you, of course."

Hiccup wanted to object, but he couldn't deny that he himself felt physically drained from traveling back to Berk. He also knew that his friends felt the same way, and so did the dragons outside. They could use a good rest. Stoick shot him a raised red eyebrow, "Are ye fine with that, lad?" His son peered back to the others, all visibly tired but too stubborn to admit it.

"Oh, yea, father, that is, um, fine."

Daenerys Targaryen smiled, drawing back towards Missandei of Naarth. "It is settled, then. Tomorrow we'll discuss my matters of being here on Berk when everyone is well-rested."

"And perhaps my son and his riders could even show you around our beautiful home if you wish," Stoick added. The Mother of Dragons laughed lightly, prettily, and Hiccup swore he heard laughter similar to hers. Am I going crazy? he thought to himself. _Why is she so familiar?_ "That would be lovely, thank you," but her eyes never strayed from the chief's son.

And his eyes never left her.

**o0o**

An hour later, Daenerys Targaryen found herself lounging comfortably in a Berkian guest house, reserved for only guests of esteemed importance. A bowl of freshly picked fruit rested on a table, a gift from some unknown Viking ladies. Next to it was a platter of meat and two goblets of mead. The taste was entirely new to them but sweet and delicious to the tongue. Perhaps Dany would take a barrel back to Drogo. She was missing him and his touch a little more than usual.

Missandei sat next to her, letting the young queen play at braiding her hair. It was an intimate gesture, but the two were more than mere queen and advisor, as the world perceived them at times. Sisters they were in each other's eyes. Nothing more, nothing less.

The two ladies sat in relaxed silence until Missandi spoke up. "The chief's son, with the dark auburn and green eyes. He's the one Astrid is promised to, according to Johann..." she trailed off, reminding Dany of days past and everything the merchant told them. "Is it weird to finally see him in person?"

Dany paused her braiding and sighed, "I don't know what to think about it, honestly. I don't even know how I feel. We spent years upon years searching for Astrid, only to find out she's now promised to a complete stranger." Her heart felt so heavy in her chest. Viserys used to say that mere men weren't worthy of the dragon. That was why House Targaryen continued the custom of wedding brother to sister centuries after the Doom of Valyria. Only a fellow dragon was the equal of another; the bloodline must remain pure.

Yet this man was different. It was obvious he cared for and respected dragons. Dany could see it clearly in his eyes. He took history and rewrote to his liking, despite the heavy disagreement from his people. Such an act was admirable.

And Johann did say Hiccup took a fancy to Astrid, supposedly falling in love with her at first glance. Daenerys did the same all those years ago when Astrid was hers alone.

But something felt wrong...

"She wasn't there in the hall with the other dragon riders," Missandei noted. "He didn't mention her name. It was like she isn't a part of their group." That was it, that's what felt wrong.

The braided strand of hair fell from Daenery's hand as she spun around. "I noticed that," she said softly. "Chief Stoick didn't correct him nor add her name. There was nothing. Do you think they suspect I'm her mother, and that I'm here to claim her?"

"It is very possible," Missandei said. "Astrid is to be the next chieftess of Berk, according to Johann, and because of that, she's considered valuable, unexchangable even, if you were to go down that path."

But what could Daenerys even exchange, if she needed to resort to that? A mother should never have to consider that a factor. It felt insulting.

In the created silence, Missandei thought a little more on the subject. "Perhaps they're hiding her? Pretending she's not on this island? And when we depart, they'll bring her back out." Her hand found Dany's and held it tightly, lovingly, in support despite everything. "But we'll find her, no matter what."

Squeezing it one last time, she then let go of her hand and rose up, crossing over to the bowl of fruit on the table.

She still had hope, Dany told herself, watching her friend pluck a grape from the stem. Her darling Missandei always carried hope in finding her Astrid. So why should she be the one to give up right now, when they're so close? She wedded a feared Dothraki Khal despite her wishes, walked through a blazing fire, and gave birth to the last Valyrian dragons. Her daughter is her flesh and blood, a last of the House Targaryen; no man could ever succeed in seizing her for life.

She was Daenerys Stormborn. A queen and a Khaleesi of the Dothraki, and the mother to Astrid. The dragons were not only what she brought back into this world, but the dragon dynasty too. And if she wished for it to continue after her, she'd need her daughter by her side. And unless the chief's son proves himself worthy for a Targaryen hand, there would be no marriage of such.

"There would be no marriage of such," Dany repeated, only louder with a bitterness. Missandei watched her, confused and a little worried. "What do you mean, your grace?" she asked.

"Let them try and watch them fail. The only marriage Astrid will be the bride of for sure will be the marriage to her kingdom."

Her violet eyes met Missandei's pretty browns.

"You are right, my dear friend, with your words. We will find her, no matter what, and bring her home. A chieftess she'll be, just not to these Vikings."

**o0o**

Meanwhile, on the other side of Berk, three dragon riders tended to their beloved mounts one last time before retiring to their respective households.

Hiccup sat upon a small wooden stool, carefully checking Toothless's claws, filing them down if necessary. The dragon was devouring a delayed dinner of Wels catfish, courtesy of Johann, and his latest exotic haul. Deep in thought the boy was, till his cousin's irritating voice suddenly snapped him out of his daze.

"Soooo...does anyone else not believes that this woman birthed four dragons? I mean, how is that even possible?"

Fishlegs gazed up from where he was moisturizing Meatleg's small wings with coconut butter. His blue eyes narrowed. "Don't be so ignorant. Do you seriously not know the story of Daenerys Targaryen?"

Snotlout scoffed, shaking his head. "Um, does it look like I do, you blubbering dumbass? None of us knew who she was before today. And how do you even know who she is? Last time I checked, she's not from around here." Hookfang blew out a heated breath at the tone of his rider's voice, giving off a little warning. His rider ignored it, though, "Hush, Hookie, and eat your damn cod."

Snotlout attention returned to Fishlegs, the expression on his face excepting an explanation. "I heard about her once while my girl and I were cruising the Northern Markets. Do you remember that day, girl? Daddy bought you those delightful volcanic rocks as a reward for doing so good in training! Oh, who's a good girl! You! You're a good girl, yes, you are!"

Hiccup rolled his eyes as Fishleg's voice shifted to that baby voice he used around Meatlug. "Uh, Fishlegs? Care to continue?" he asked.

"Oh, right. Sorry," the husky boy giggled awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck before continuing, "Anyway, this one merchant, can't remember his name, told me about her. How she was sold to a Dothraki chief by her brother, in the hopes of being repaid an army. However, it was Daenerys that attained his wishes, and a 'golden crown' her brother was given."

"What's wrong with having a golden crown," Snotlout interrupted, mindlessly brushing over Hookfang's reddish scales with an old brush. "I wouldn't mind having one."

"Will you shut up? Damn, you're annoying!" Hiccup chuckled at Fishlegs, inwardly agreeing with him. "And it wasn't a crown you're thinking of, Snotlout. The Dothraki Khal poured melted gold over the brother's head, though I can't remember why. All I know is that Drogo killed him, and his death made Daenerys stronger. Months later, Daenerys gave birth in a lit pyre. Her children were dragons. That's all the merchant told me."

After a minute, Snotlout shrugged, tossing the brush to the side, not caring where it landed. "Eh, still calling yak shit on everything. I'll see it when I believe it, haha. And with that, I bid you two muttonheads a good night," before treading out of the stable. He was mumbling some incoherent under his breath, followed by small snickering. Hookfang, back in the stable, watched his rider leave before giving the remaining riders apologetic eyes.

Hiccup waved it away with a smile. "Don't feel sorry, Hookfang. Surprisingly, we're used to it."

"Oh, yeah. That's just his personality," Fishlegs added, sharing the same smile. He gave the dragon a pleasant scratch under his chin.

The following minutes passed by in unbroken silence, with only various warbles, grunts, and feasting noises of the dragons inside the building. Hiccup Haddock was thankful for the silence; it allowed him to slip back to his thinking. And there was much to think after today.

"Was it me, or did Daenerys remind you of Astrid?"

Fishlegs's question took Hiccup by absolute surprise, although he was thinking the same thing. But it was the mention of his passed love that made his heart feel even more pained. In his head, he never spoke of her name; it was like an unsaid rule of his soul. Replay all the memories with her but never dare say her name. He missed her so much. "No, 'Legs, it's not just you. She reminds me of Astrid, too, though I can't figure out why."

"Her smile and her laughter," Fishlegs told him. Hiccup stared at him. "They both have the same smile and laughter," he repeated.

"Do you remember her smile and laughter, Hiccup?"

Three months later and Hiccup could still hear Astrid's laughter everywhere. In the bright sunlight, amid the lovely flowers that bloomed on the sloping hillsides, and lastly, the cute fawn that she rescued beforehand. It was such a unique sound, too, like pretty wind chimes in the summer wind. When she laughed, all was well in the world. No one could tell him differently.

He could even see that gorgeous smile curled on those lips, the same lips he wanted to press against his mouth. He never did, though, and he despised himself for that. "Her posture too," Hiccup added, prompting Fishlegs to raise an eyebrow at him. "And the way her eyes crinkle and eyebrows dip when she smiles." Hiccup could go on and on with similarities between the two. But he forced himself to stop.

It was too uncomfortable.

Fishlegs rested a soothing hand on his friend's back. Pity was not on his face but sympathy, and he spoke softly as if his words could injure Hiccup.

"She's with the Valkyries, with Odin and Freyja, waiting for us to join her at their table. You'll be reunited with her someday; I can promise you that." But Hiccup didn't want to wait; he wanted her right now. Alive and healthy and full of love for family, for her friends, her dragons, and him. He ached to introduce her to Daenerys and speak of all the amazing things she was.

From a stall to the right, Stormfly trilled sadly. "See, even Stormfly agrees with me. Thank you, sweet girl." The dragon chirped again before bowing her head.

Hiccup didn't say anything in return. Fishlegs sighed. "Why don't you get some sleep, Hiccup? We'll need it for tomorrow." His friend simply nodded, rising from the stool. Toothless warbled in concern, but Hiccup just shot him a mournful smile, "He's right, bud. I need some sleep. Get some sleep, too; I'll see you tomorrow morning." The dragon began to follow after him as usual, but Hiccup held out a palm, freezing him in place.

"No, bud. I need some time alone to think. You stay here and comfort Stormfly, please."

Toothless lowered his head but tried no more, veering back towards a silent Stormfly.

Throughout the night, thoughts and memories of his Astrid lingered within Hiccup's mind. No amount of tossing and turning could stop his tears from damping his pillow nor keep his heart from experiencing that agonizing burn. "Please heal soon," he whimpered softly. "Please, Freyja, heal my heart. Return my love." But do the gods hear the pleas meant for them?

If that were the case, his mother would've returned long before.

Downstairs, tending to the dying hearth, Stoick could overhear his son's soft cries from the upstairs bedroom. He wanted to comfort his boy desperately, tell him it would be ok, that he would survive this heart break, but he didn't honestly know if that was the full truth. Tears of his own began to swell soon after.

History was repeating itself, just not the way he preferred.

**o0o**


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I recommend listening to Celtic Women's 'Tir na Nog'. I claim no sort of ownership of the song, although I will claim that it is an absolute favorite of mine.

**VII**

* * *

_“You must be my children,” she told the dragons, “my three fierce children. Arstan says dragons live longer than men, so you will go on after I am dead - Daenerys, ASOS_

* * *

**o0o**

| A few months back ...|

Astrid retired on a large but unoccupied sea stack, standing in the middle of the ocean. Somewhere behind her, Stormfly played a game of tag with the small seabirds. Out here, by herself, the young girl felt free, no concern as to who could likely be watching and judging her actions. She allowed herself to shed that strong, charismatic shieldmaiden character, and embrace a feeling she thought she forgot. Soft breezes fluttered around her blonde hair, dancing with the strands. 

How long has it been since she sang, she wondered to herself. It’s been a long time, far too long in her eyes. Her mind wandered back in Time. 

When she was still a babe, her mother loved a particular song. A song she had learned from a stranger of a strange culture, not of the many belonging to Westeros nor Essos. He wasn’t Valyrian or Northmen, Ironmen, or First Men. “He was Irish, if I remember correctly,” Daenerys explained to her one evening. “His culture is similar to the Northmen of Winterfell, though it has a distinct name to it. Viserys found him dull, but to me, he was a good friend. He taught me a song before the waves took him back home. He said the name was ‘Tír na nÓg.’”

Astrid remembered the song well. Her mother loved ‘Tír na nÓg.’ The Dothraki never sang, but when they were alone, her mother would, and Astrid enjoyed joining in.

The words on her tongue felt like silk when she opened her mouth to sing the first verse, “Sha ta co ti scum ne rivna. Sha ta co ti oh nugga Tír na nÓg. Sha ta co ti oh scum ne rivna. Nug a Tír na nÓg.”

Her legs swayed carefree in the air, and she dug her nails into the earth underneath her. If Astrid squinted her eyes in a certain way, she could see her ghosts whirling around in a festive dance. Pretty dresses with lace twirled about, and chainmail metal clanked heavily against it each other.

“Come, my love, our worlds will part. The gods will guide us across the dark. Come with me and be mine, my love. Stay and break my heart. From the shore through the ancient mist, you bear the mark of my Elven kiss. Clear the way, I will take you home, to eternal bliss.”

Astrid could easily paint up a picture of her mother dancing within their tent, her Tyroshi accent echoing in the air. Her leather-padded body twisting around the open room. At her legs were three dragons, snapping their jaws to her music, enchanted by their mother and all the silver beauty the Faith of the Seven blessed her with.

“Sha ta co ti scum ne rivna. Sha ta co ti oh nugga Tír na nÓg. Sha ta co ti oh scum ne rivna. Nug a Tír na nÓg. Sha ta co ti scum ne rivna. Sha ta co ti oh nugga Tír na nÓg. Sha ta co ti oh scum ne rivna. Nug a Tír na nÓg.”

“Tír na nÓg, oh, " she sang, "Come beyond the ancient fog. Tír na nÓg, oh. Come with me to Tír na nÓg.”

She wondered if her mother still sang the song. She must, Astrid thought, for it was far too beautiful for one to stop singing. Even her father loved to listen to his wife. He would clap his hands and exclaim, “Not only did I find the most beautiful woman, but the most talented too!” And Dany would blush, and Drogo would gather her in his arms for a kiss, and Astrid would jump up and down before her father picked her up too and kissed her also.

“Far away from the land you knew, the dawn of day reaches out to you.” Astrid reached out a hand towards the lowering sun, almost desperate for its touch. “Though it feels like a fairytale, all of this is true. Run with me, have a look around. We built our life over sacred ground. Come, my love, though our worlds may part, we’ll be safe and sound.” 

“Sha ta co ti scum ne rivna. Sha ta co ti oh nugga Tír na nÓg. Sha ta co ti oh scum ne rivna.”

Lost in her singing, she failed to hear the incoming nightfury and its rider. The duo listened to the girl with intense interest, Stormfly joining them that few feet away. She chirped at her dear friend, and Toothless warbled back questioningly, nodding his head towards Hiccup. “She can sing?” Hiccup exclaimed in bewilderment. “How come no one told me she could sing!”

“Tír na nÓg, oh,” Astrid drawled out, her tongue curling the vowels. “Come beyond the ancient fog.”

At once, Hiccup felt all his current frustration melt out of his body. He had no clue that Astrid could sing; he heard her voice before, and it was the best. If anything, Snotlout sang better. But there she was, singing like a pretty mockingbird in the morning. He was so incredibly sure that he was gawking like a lovesick bastard, and there was no denying it, because he was indeed a lovesick bastard at the moment. 

“Tír na nÓg, oh. Come with me to Tír na nÓg-”

“-Astrid?”

Hearing her name being called, Astrid immediately ceased her singing. Hiccup stood only a few feet, wide-eyed and mouth agape but blushing red. “Hiccup!” She quickly, and quite awkwardly, called out, legs trembling beneath her as she stood up. “Hey, Hiccup! W-what are you doing here?”

“You were singing.”

Astrid ran a hand through her loose hair. “Yes, but-”

“And your hair. It’s loose.”

“I am aware, Hiccup.”

Gone was the cute Hiccup stuttering Astrid adored so much. The tables had turned, and she was now the stuttering redden mess as she tried to clarify the situation to her best friend. Her exceeding handsome best friend, with those thick auburn eyebrows, lifted in pure seriousness. Vikings rarely sang, exclusively during Snoggletog festivities, when the mead and spirits of celebration were known to be sweeter and welcomed, and the unions between two lovers. 

Which was currently not the case. 

“It was a song my mother sang to me when I was little,” Astrid revealed. “I felt a little homesick and thought singing could help.”

Hiccup relaxed his shoulders. “Oh, I see. But that song was in another language, was it not?” Astrid paused but then nodded, figuring that he deserved the truth, “Yes. Neither my mother nor I know the language, but she told me it didn’t matter.”

“Do you know what it could mean?”

Astrid smiled. “It’s Irish, but if I’m not wrong, the culture is Celtic. Tír na nÓg is the name of their overworld. It’s a land of eternal youth and beauty, and love. My mother told me that somewhere she heard genuine soulmates are reunited there, to spend the rest of eternity loving each other.”

She observed his smile, her heart rising to her throat. He was gorgeous. And in the lighting of the setting sun, he resembled the son of a god. He stretched out a hand, and when she took it without hesitation, he pulled her back to the edge of the sea stack. The sun was thinning against the ocean’s horizon, and the silver stars above gradually appeared. 

Astrid glanced at Hiccup through the corner of her eye.

She wanted so desperately to tell him the honesty about her mother. About her homeland and its kingdom and the history behind them all. But how could she do so? How does one go about admitting something so intimate? Biting down that sudden urge, she instead relaxed her head against Hiccup’s shoulder, twisting his fingers through hers.

“Astrid?” Hiccup breathed. “Can you finish the song for me? I like it. It sounds beautiful coming from you.”

She smiled

_Daenerys Targaryen cherished small moments like this. Her brother Viserys forced her to grow up too fast, never gave her a chance for a childhood of her own. She was never a little girl, it seemed, but a wife one moment and a mother the next. But right now, as she danced around the meadow, her body twirling and spinning wildly, she felt free. Free of the worries of chasing after a stolen crown._

_To the far north of the range, Dany could overhear the whinnies of the Dothraki destriers. The shouts of many wives and their children and the slaves that tittered around the camp, creating the tents and preparing the evening dinners for the men and the Khal. She blocked out all those noises and concentrated on her precious children by her side._

_Beneath the soles of her barefoot, the soil was damp from a wandering summer thunderstorm. There were few puddles scattered around, and the surrounding vegetation glistened with soft dew. The feeling brought back sweet memories of Braavos and the house with the red door and the lemon tree outside the bedroom window. How often Dany wished and prayed to return to it, to something familiar and safe and loved. Ser Willem Darry would’ve kept her there. He would’ve given her a childhood._

“Time _won’t follow the path we came. The world you left; it forgot your name. Stay with me and be mine, my love. Spare my heart the pain.”_

_Her little daughter’s hand gripped hers tightly. The pressure was beautiful to Dany, like no other before. “Sha ta co ti oh scum ne rivna. Sha ta co ti oh nugga Tír na nÓg. Sha ta co ti oh scum ne rivna. Nug a Tír na nÓg.”_

_Together, their feet crossed in the mud. The three dragons, growing stronger by the passing day, flapped their delicate wings in the air. Their cries and roars were becoming deeper in sound, but Dany loved them all the more._

_“Sha ta co ti oh scum ne rivna. Sha ta co ti oh nugga Tír na nÓg. Sha ta co ti oh scum ne rivna. Nug a Tír na nÓg.”_

_Dany laughed towards the sky, and Astrid giggled, and the dragons roared out again._

_“Tír na nÓg, Oh. Come beyond the ancient fog,” both mother and daughter sang as one. “Tír na nÓg, Oh. Come with me to Tír na nÓg.”_

_The child broke from her mother’s arm to twirl around her brothers, giggling. The dragons chased after her, shrieking loudly and batting their wings together. Dany’s face felt as if it could break from the smile stretched out on her lips._

_She forgot to sing, but the wind delivered the last line._

_“Come with me to Tír na nÓg.”_

* * *

**o0o**

Following dawn’s early break, as promised beforehand, Chief Stoick the Vast, Gobber the Belch, and the dragon riders huddled around the long table inside the Mead Hall. An elegant tablecloth laid draped over the beautiful wood, depicting many achievements of past Berkian ancestors. Hiccup stared at one in particular. It was a giant, well-built Viking decapitating a monstrous nightmare with a longsword. Its bloody head was falling, where a wife was waiting to seize it with a basket. Not so long ago, that scene was familiar with Berk. He had witnessed his father do the same; he shuddered at the remembrance. 

As he was lost in his thoughts, many young, pretty dames fluttered around, laying multiple breakfast options down before them. They all wore tight, pretty kransens around their foreheads, their hair either loose or braided. Snotlout and Tuffnut shared a smirk. 

The baker’s wife meanwhile, a fair, plump woman with a sheath of dark freckles on both arms, presented a fresh loaf of grained bread. Setting it in the middle of the table, she dusted her hands on her apron. “There ye go, Stoick! Ragnar spent last night preparing it for ye; the poor lad didn’t sleep till morning’s dawn when I shoved him up to bed.” 

Stoick chuckled heartily, “Deeply appreciated, Elneia. Tell him I’ll swing about and pick up another loaf soon. When he wakes up, of course.” He leaned forward to steal a whiff of the intense aroma, “Smells delicious as always.” 

Elneia laughed as well, “Thank ye, Chief. We’ll be waiting,” and she grabbed a daughter’s elbow tightly, one she noticed had flashed a bashful smile towards the young heir. The fluttering of eyelashes and tucking of hair strands behind the ear didn’t go unnoticed as well. “Keep ye eyes to yourself, girl. He has themself a woman to marry,” she whispered. The girl looked at her in dismay, lips pressed in a line. 

“Yes, mother.”

“Thank ye, girls,” Stoick said, clapping his hands together. “That will be all; ye may take ye leave.” He paid no further attention to them. The other girls sent yet another longing glance at Hiccup but left in disappointment. Their glances did not go unnoticed by Heather Oswald, who sighed. Her brother Dagur rested a hand ontop hers, giving her a questioning look, but she only shook her head.

‘I’ll tell you later,’ she mouthed. He left it at that. 

Hiccup Haddock reached out and tore a piece of bread from the loaf, offering a slice to his sister. Heather took it with a smile and relaxed her head on his shoulder, nibbling on it silently. As per custom, he wore a dark bearskin cloak like his father’s, one from the island’s several cave bears. His clothing was freshly scrubbed, the red tunic and black woolen pants pressed, and his single metal leg flashed in the morning light. He was silent, and Heather knew what he was thinking of, and that made her feel sad.

“Hey,” she whispered close to his ear. He looked down at her questioningly, lifting an eyebrow.

“I love you, little brother.” 

He squeezed her hand in return, “I love you more.” And he meant it. 

She was going to oppose that, that he loved her more, but something cut her off.

It was the din of another great, powerful roar sounding from the outside. It was so unexpected, so loud; it made everyone quickly turn their attention to the hall’s shut doors. It was exactly like yesterday’s, the one Gobber said no one knew about. Silver cups rattled, and the tiniest drops of mead mildly stained the tablecloth when an additional roar, just as appalling and brash, pealed soon after. Fishlegs whimpered slightly, clasping together chubby hands in his lap. 

“Woah, that sounded cool!” Ruffnut exclaimed to her brother. “My bones are still rattling! Here, feel my wrist, Tuff. See?” Tuffnut wrapped a hand across her wrist, grinning. 

Ignoring the twins, Hiccup turned to his father, “Father, what is that sound? It’s getting louder, and I don’t like it.”

Stoick traced one small circle into his forehead, then another, and a third after that. His shoulders appeared stiff, but his face was blank from knowledge. “I don’t know, son. I do not know. It sounded ugly, didn’t it?” 

“Better if we find out,” Gobber added from his spot to the left. He was finishing the polishing of his stump arm with a dirty, forge towel, and he looked up to meet Stoick’s eyes, “If it’s trouble, it came to the wrong place, I can say. We’ll do what we need to do, aye.” Hiccup stared at Gobber. ‘We’ll do what we need to do.’ “What do you mean by that, Gobber?”

Gobber looked at him pointedly. “Don’t be so daft, my boy. Ye know what I mean by that.” 

Hiccup knew what he meant, and he didn’t like the thought of such. Slaughter. It was plastered on the blacksmith’s face, sewn on the tablecloth’s designs, and recorded in the history books of Berk. How barbaric they must seem to outsiders, to people like Daenerys Targaryen. To Missandei of Naarth and the reserved Ser Jorah Mormont and Ser Barristan Selmy. 

There was another roar; it was growing only louder by the second. Hiccup felt himself tense up. The cry sounded much like the Red Death he battled all those years ago when he was just a young boy aching to prove himself worthy in the eyes of his people. 

He sent a concerned look towards his father. “We have guests here, father. We must protect them, just as we protect our people. If you would like, I could go get Toothless and take a quick look at whatever is making those noises-”

“-that will not be needed, Hiccup Haddock,” Daenerys Targaryen broke in. Fashioned beautifully around her shoulders were a milk-white lionskin cloak, complimenting the silver dress she wore underneath. A black three-headed dragon pin kept the lionskin from falling to the ground, and she stood tall and proud. Every inch a queen. Behind her, the advisor and two knightguards waited quietly, peering at the gathered Vikings.

“The sounds you are hearing are from my dragons. They’ll be no need to react; they answer to my calling only. No harm will be brought down onto your island without provocation.” 

Stoick smiled. “That answers many of our questions, ye majesty. Thank you.”

“I understand the concern you all may have. If you wish, after this meeting concludes, I can introduce you to them...”

“I would love to meet them,” Hiccup declared, “And I’m sure the others feel the same way.” 

Gobber stood to offer to pull out a chair for her, but Mormont held up a hand and shook his head. “No, please, remain seated.” He slid out a chair instead. “My queen,” Jorah murmured, “Please, sit.” Dany gave him a gracious smile, “Thank you, my dear knight.” She turned back around, giving her attention to the Berkians as her small group took their seats. 

There was a small moment of silence until it was broken. “Shall we begin?” Dany asked shortly. 

Stoick nodded, “Indeed, ye majesty.” One large hand danced around the silver handle of his cup. “Now that we are all rested and sure of mind, the meeting shall begin. Please, share ye matter of extreme importance, Mother of Dragons. We are all listening.” 

All eyes in the room flickered to Daenerys. Hiccup watched her, most of all. He observed her carefully, studying every little detail in her lovely face and braided, silvery locks and threaded stitch in her gown. He watched her raise the glass to her lips and take a small sip of the sweet mead before starting. She was something incredibly exciting, unbelievably remarkable, and impossible. As if she shouldn’t be real but folklore written on the versos of ancient novels. 

“As I have mentioned earlier, I have four children- three sons and a daughter. I held all four close to me ever since their births in the Dothraki Sea, protected them from prying eyes of the world around them. They’re most important to me. But all that changed eight years ago when two enemy houses launched a sack on my kingdom. Their goal was quite simple: murder the heir to the Iron Throne - my daughter.”

“You must understand, my friends, I can no longer have children. The dragons are the only children I shall ever bear in this world.”

Heated tendrils rushed through her chest at the thought of her beloved Astrid. They felt like burning fingers clasping her beating heart, and if they squeezed it anymore, it could kill her. It was undeniably painful to Dany, but she had to continue, for the sake of her family. Everyone was looking at her expectedly. 

“One of her brothers took her away on his back, away from the bloodshed and slaughter. Away from lions and stags and other killers. He took her to the Red Priestess Kinvara of Volantis, a loyal ally of mine. We thought she would be safe, but what we did not know were that unnamed loyalties of House Lannister and House Baratheon were waiting for them. My son was greatly injured but came home, my daughter-” she paused, swallowing the massive lump in her throat, “-she never returned.” 

“Her father, my husband, gathered his bloodriders and searched the highs and lows of every kingdom in Westeros. The North, the Vale, the Stormlands, the Westerlands, the Iron Islands, the Reach, Dorne. We believed at first that she fled to Dragonstone, a family castle, but she was not there when we arrived. The dragons flew over unknown territories in the west and south, as far as our ancestral homeland Old Valyria, but to no avail. There was no sign of her.”

Missandei took her hand under the table, stroking it gently. 

“She was lost to us; it appeared. Her disappearance greatly impacted the Crownlands, where we currently reside in King’s Landing. She was loved by all, but I loved her the most.”

Her story reminded Hiccup of his mother, succumbed to a twilight dragonraid eighteen years ago. Sometimes he wondered what type of woman she was; he wondered if he would’ve been closer to her than his father. Stoick was never the same after her death; Hiccup sneaked a glance at his father to his right. An unrecognizable expression rested on his face. His grip on his glass had tightened, Hiccup noted, and his mouth did as well. It felt nice to see a reaction from him; it made him human in his son’s eyes.

Hiccup returned to Daenerys. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “Why are you here, then?” 

“Because we were told by the merchant Johann that she was alive and healthy and adopted as one of your own. If that is the truth, I’m here to take her back home, where she truly belongs.”

The heir sat back in shock. Around him, the other Berkians did the same, as well as Dagur and Heather. Auburn eyebrows furrowed tightly, and he wasted no hesitation in voicing his confusion to the woman. “With all due respect, your grace,” he began carefully, “We have never seen your daughter before. No one here on this island carries your family features, for example, your silverness and eyes.” 

“She wouldn’t either,” Daenerys responded, shaking her head. “Kinvara changed her appearance to protect her from our enemies.”

Stoick leaned close. “What does she look like if that is the case?” he asked. 

“Kinvara was brilliant in how she changed her, “Dany admitted. “The Valyrians, whom I am descended from, primarily had purple eyes, ranging in various shades. It is what we are known for. But it was rare for a Targaryen to have blue eyes, only possible if an outside parent had the genes for them. If my daughter had them, no one would suspect her as one.”

“So, your daughter would have blue eyes.”

“Yes.”

“Blue eyes are quite common here on Berk,” Hiccup pointed out. He gestured to Fishlegs and Ruffnut, “As you can see, many of us have them.” Then he leaned forward, pressing two fingers against the table, “However, if you tell us her name, we can figure out this whole situation faster and reunite you with your missing daughter.” 

Dany’s eyes flickered back between the Haddock men. Her face contorted in inner conflict. “To this day, I fear for her life. Many remain loyal to the usurper, that bastard Robert Baratheon, and those many will not hesitate in bringing her harm.”

“Daenerys, you can trust us,” Hiccup said. “We would dare not bring you nor your family harm. In fact, if we can find your daughter, we ask for an alliance. There are still many out there who do not see the dragons as allies and friends. If the Mother of Dragons is on our side, we are sure to win this current war we are fighting against the hunters.” 

Dany stared hard at Hiccup. He seemed to be a respectable man, one of his words, and she greatly admired that. And he loves her daughter, Astrid, with his entire heart, as others on the island had said before numerous times. Though she wondered if that declared love would lead him to betray his word, once he learns the truth of her origin. A higher claim he’ll feel he has on her, and this council could easily back him up. 

Hiccup was bothered by her silence. She had appeared to be thinking long and hard, either on her daughter or the alliance he proposed just now. He glanced warily at his close friends and found them looking back. He shook his head, “I promise you, Daenerys, and I never break a promise. I am a man of my word.”

“He truly is, it’s annoying sometimes,” Snotlout murmured. Gobber clouted him the shoulder, “Hush, boy,” he said under his breath.

His cousin shot him a side glare as he said, “You’ll have your daughter back, and no one will stand in your way.”

Daenerys raised an eyebrow, “You promise me that no one will stand in my way?”

“I promise.”

“And that includes you?”

Hiccup drew back, confused. He looked to his father and Gobber, Heather, and Dagur. “With all due respects, ma’am, I don’t understand why of all people, you’d worry about me interfering in your reunion with your daughter. I have no claim over her, no relationship whatsoever. I don’t even know who she is!”

“Oh, but you do, Hiccup Haddock,” Dany mused. “You hold quite a strong claim over her head if I’m honest. Possibly one as strong as mine.” He seemed so much more confused than before, and perhaps a little guilty, although he had no understanding as to what she was talking about. “You see, my daughter is the girl the Berkian elders deemed suitable enough to be your chieftess.”

Daenerys then smiled, pretty and pure, and Hiccup’s chest suddenly felt as if all the breath within his lungs had been squeezed out by this woman. Because right then and there, he recognized that smile. That smile was his everything and more. 

“Yes, my missing daughter is your Astrid.”

 **o0o**


End file.
